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KITTY’S FATHER 



FRANK BARRETT 

AUTHOR OF 

“FOUND GUILTY,” “FOR LOVE AND HONOR,” “A PRODIGAL’S PROGRESS,” 

ETC. 







UNITED STATES BOOK COMPANY 

5 AND 7 East Sixteenth Street 


Chicago ; 266 & 268 Wabash Ave. 


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Copyright, 1892, 

BY 

UNITED STATES BOOK COMPANY, 


[A// rights reserved."] 




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KITTY’S FATHER 


CHAPTER I. 

PROLOGUE. 

Two miserable card-sharpers came at day-break to the 
brow of the hill overlooking the old town of Chichester. 
Just past the church and opposite the rectory was a gate 
opening into the glebe slopes ; there, by common accord, 
they halted, and, hanging over the gate, looked down in 
silence on the race-course. It lay beyond the town, within 
a wide semicircular reach of the river. In that half-light 
they could just make out the swings and roundabouts on the 
skirt of a gray patch of canvas tents and booths. There was 
no motion, no sound. Not a thread of smoke rose from the 
brown stretch of roofs below. The world seemed dead, and 
the leaden clouds, unbroken, hung over all like a pall. 

The two men had been tramping all night — from the hour 
when they were turned out of the last beershop : they were 
dry, jaded, and surly. Neither had opened his lips to speak 
for an hour, too dejected even to curse the long dusty road. 
Now, at last, one of them spoke. 

“ What are we a-stoppin’ here for ? ” 

“ ’Tain’t no use a-goin’ on, as I see. Shan’t find e’er a 
corfee aouse nor nuffin open for free hours yet.” 

‘‘ Well, we ain’t likely to find no corfee aouse open up 
here, are we ? ” retorted the other, turning round and looking 
about him. 

“ ’Tain’t no treat a-goin’ down in that meader. It’ll be 
all amuck wid the fog off the river. I’m for doin’ a doss in 
the church porch or someres where it’s a bit dry.” 

“ ’Enery,” said the one who had been looking around, in a 
lowered tone, “ that’s a bloomin’ fine aouse over there.” 


8 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


He nodded toward the rectory house, where gables and upper 
windows rose beyond the high garden wall. 

“ Parsonage or suffin.” 

“ ’Tain’t likely they’ve left no doors open where a bloke 
could sneak a drop to drink.” He spoke in a still lower 
tone, yet with a hopeful inflection. 

“ What do you fink — a clergyman’s aouse and race time 
an’ all ! ” He plucked a spike of grass and slowly chewed 
it, leaning against the gate with his elbow on the top bar, 
while his mate, not dissuaded by his reasoning, followed the 
hedge side for some distance, crossed the road, and putting 
his hands on the garden wall, drew himself up and looked 
over. 

’Enery chewed on in moody silence until his mate hailed 
him with a low sibilant call. He crossed the road gingerly 
and joined him, still munching the grass in sceptical despond- 
ency. 

“ Give us a bunnick up,” whispered the more energetic 
partner. “ Strawberries is in and there’s a bed on ’em down 
there, which I’m goin’ for.” 

The other gave the required lift. 

“ You are a-comin’ along.? ” asked ’Enery, from the top of 
the wall. 

“Well, you don’t fink I’m goin’ to stop here, a-chewin’ 
grass while you’re a-wolfin’ strawberries in there, do you ? 
Give us a pull.” 

In a few minutes both were “ wolfing ” the rector’s cher- 
ished fruit, and for half an hour they wolfed in silence ; then 
one of them, seized with a misgiving, spoke : 

“ I don’t know how these is goin’ to agree with our in’ards. 
If we could on’y get a drop o’ sperrits to keep ’em from 
turnin’ of us up.” 

“ ’Tain’t more’n half-past free yet awhile ; shan’t get no 
sperrits afone six.” 

“ We might jest go and have a look at the doors, now we’re 
here.” 

“ Ain’t no harm in lookin’, is there ? ” 

Come on. We can mike round by the bloomin’ scrub 
bery.” 

They got into the shrubbery and followed the path between 
the evergreens on tip-toe until they found an open lawn 
before them with the house beyond. They paused and looked. 
It was all right. The sombre house was as still as a tomb. 


KITTY 'S FA THER, 


9 

Skirting the dark evergreens they passed over the lawn and 
entered a similar alley to that which they had left, glad to be 
again where they were safe from observation. They had no 
wish to try the front of the house ; their hopes lay in the 
direction of the kitchens and offices at the back, towards which 
the shrubbery tended. But they had not gone a dozen stealthy 
steps from the open lawn, when they stopped suddenly, clutch- 
ing at each other in alarm. They had both caught the sound 
of the click of a lock, which to their ears was ominously like 
the cocking of a gun. They waited a minute in breathless 
suspense, looking to the right and left in quick apprehension, 
for neither could say where the sound came from. Then 
they clutched at each other again, as the creaking of a hinge 
struck their ears. Without a doubt that came from the house 
across the lawn. What were they to do ? They had not the 
advantage of being professional burglars, but they stood a 
fair chance of suffering the disadvantage of such rascals if 
they were caught. To go back the way they came they must 
cross the lawn and expose themselves to discovery ; they 
were at sea as to their whereabouts, and knew no other way 
of escape. To make a dash for it was out of the question. 
There was the high wall to be scaled, and neither could de- 
pend on the help of his friend at such a time. Yet they must 
do something, if only to assure themselves that they were not 
being noiselessly crept upon by the enemy. With this con- 
sciousness they slowly and stealthily retraced their steps 
towards the lawn, bending low and seeking to find an open- 
ing through the evergreens by which to reconnoitre. Pres- 
ently they both got a glimpse of the house. It had a door 
in the middle, and a veranda running to the right and left. 
Under the veranda one of the French windows was open ; 
in front of it the parson stood looking out over the lawn. 
They could tell he was the parson by his long black coat, 
close waistcoat, and shaven face. He looked like a phantom 
in the gray light ; his face was a white patch — nothing more. 

Had he heard them ? His presence there seemed to prove 
that he had. There might be a dog in the house whose fine 
sense had caught the rustle of their feet in the bed of straw- 
berries ; the parson had dressed and come down. That he 
suspected something was evident ; for, as they watched, he 
stepped out on to the lawn looking to the right and left ; then 
he stood still for some seconds in an attentive, listening atti- 
tude. Once more he came forward, and now the two unfor- 


10 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


tunate marauders felt it was high time to retreat. A dozen 
steps would bring the parson to the alley, and within arms’ 
reach of them. They were peaceable rascals. To get into 
a row at the very beginning of the race week was the worst 
luck that could befall them, short of being made prisoners 
and delivered up to the police. To avoid an encounter they 
turned about, and in mortal dread crept along the alley. 
Happily the alley was disused and overgrown, so that they 
reached the end of the path without making any sound to 
betray them. But they were not at ease then. 

The path abutted upon a quadrangular yard that seemed used 
for farm purposes. An irregular building enclosed it on three 
sides — possibly they were sheds for cows or stables for 
horses. There was a roofed well in the middle ; hard by was 
a heap of manure and a tumbrel with its shafts in the air. 
There seemed to be a gateway between two of the barn-like 
structures in front, but it was impossible to think of escaping 
that way. Barn doors were not in their line, and how they 
fastened and unfastened was a mystery they could not ven- 
ture to solve. The only other exit was a narrow door on one 
side of the yard ; but that clearly opened upon the domestic 
offices, and might probably lead them into a trap from which 
escape was more difficult than their present position. A 
door of one of the sheds close at hand was open. They ap- 
proached it and looked in. It was dark inside, beautifully 
dark, a few rough tools near the door, and an earthy smell 
encouraged the cockneys to believe that they might take ref- 
uge there without fear of being kicked by horses or tossed 
by bulls, and they crept in as far as they dared go in the dark. 
And here they waited with craned necks, watching the shrub- 
bery, ready to draw back in an instant if the ghostly face of 
the parson suddenly appeared against the dark green of the 
brakes. 

But he did not come. The slightest sound would have 
been caught by their strained ears ; the perfect stillness was 
unbroken. Gradually unbending from their cramped posi- 
tion as their courage revived, they rose to their feet and held 
a whispered consultation. 

“ He ain’t come trough the scrubbery.” 

“ Seems like he’s gone back agin.” 

“ P’raps he’s gone tawake the servints.” 

“ Or fetch a dawg — or a gun.” 

“ Better clear out of this sharp. How about the door ? ” 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


£ I 

“ We’ll have a look frough the bushes to see he ain’t 
hangin’ about afore we go messin’ along o’ doors what we 
don’t know nuffin about.” 

“ Right y’are ; come on.” 

They made their way back into the alley slowly, balancing 
first on one foot then on the other, until they came to a part 
of the shrubbery where the evergreens were sparsely planted, 
and they dropped on their hands and knees to peer under 
the lower branches, where the growth was thinnest. They 
were almost on a parallel with the fa9ade of the house ; a 
flower border lay between them and the lawn on the other 
side of the evergreens. 

“ Can’t see nobody. Where’s the bloomin’ winder ? ” 
whispered one. 

“ Lower side of the door. We must go farder round 
afore ” 

He stopped abruptly, for at that moment both heard the 
rustle of a foot in the crisp grass of the lawn, and a minute 
afterwards the parson himself passed before them. He was 
so close to them that they could not see more than the skirt 
of his frock-coat and his legs. But the strange thing was that 
his knees were bent, and he planted one foot firmly before 
lifting the other, taking short, quick paces a's though he car- 
ried a heavy burden. They could not make it out. It was 
not with such a gait that he would skirt the lawn if he were 
on the look-out for depredators ! Yet it seemed as if he were 
simply making the tour of the lawn. 

Suddenly a brusque movement of the evergreens and the 
scrunch of a heavy foot on the path indicated that the parson 
had quitted the lawn and entered the alley in the shrubbery. 
The two sharpers rose swiftly to their feet, and as rapidly as 
caution permitted, retraced their steps to the yard, for it was 
clear that the parson was coming down the path. At each 
moment they heard the quick, sharp crunch of his heavy step ; 
the rustling of the foliage was continued as though the way 
was too narrow for his passage. The rascals got back to the 
shed breathless with haste and fear, and crouched down in 
the obscurity beyond the half-closed door, looking intently at 
the opening in the shrubbery for the further development of 
the mystery. Nearer and nearer the heavy footstep came ; 
the brushing of the evergreens grew louder, and at length the 
parson came in sight, bent low and staggering under the load 
painfully poised upon his shoulder. What was the load he 


12 


KITTY^S FATHER. 


bore ? — a man — another parson seemingly, by his dress — an 
old man with thin, silvery hair that shone in the gray light. 
And he was dead, for his limbs hung supine and his head 
swayed from side to side as his bearer staggered on. 

The bearer’s strength had almost given out. He made for 
the well in the middle of the yard with slow, short, struggling 
steps. The mouth of the well was surrounded by a brick 
wall rising three or four feet from the ground. Arrived at the 
edge, the parson steadied his legs and attempted to throw his 
burden on the well ; but his strength was not equal to the ef- 
fort, and the body sliding from his shoulder fell to the earth, 
the upper part huddled up against the brickwork, the white 
head drooping forward in an attitude terribly grotesque. The 
living parson straightened himself up and looked round him 
with the same listening attention the men had observed when 
they first saw him on the lawn. He stood thus in the dead 
stillness for fully two minutes, then drawing a handkerchief 
from the tail pocket of his frock-coat he slowly wiped the 
sweat from his livid face. He was a man of medium height, 
with dark hair, and about forty — so much the men in the 
shed could make out in that uncertain light, but little more 
with certainty. 

When he had wiped his face he slowly replaced the 
handkerchief in his pocket, looking down at the dead man 
by his feet. Then he bent down, and, clasping the body in 
his arms, endeavored to raise it up on the edge of the well ; 
but he could not lift it high enough, and after a struggle he 
let it slip from his arms, the body this time falling at full 
length, and the white old head striking the cobble pavement 
with a dull thud. The parson looked about him, and catch- 
ing sight of the bucket hanging over the well by a chain run- 
ning through a pulley in the cross-beam above, went to the 
windlass and slowly unwound it. Evidently the well was in 
disuse, for despite his slow and cautious movement the wind- 
lass and pulley squeaked and the rusted chain grated harshly 
as it descended. When a certain length was unwound he 
drew up the bucket from the well, unhooked it from the chain, 
and set it down softly. Then, taking the disengaged hook, 
he passed it under the dead man’s head, drew the chain tight 
round his throat, and slipped the hook round a limb. 
After pausing once more to look around and listen he went 
slowly to the windlass and began slowly again to wind it up. 
The winch squeaked, the pully grated ; but the chain held. 


KITTY'S FATHER. 




tightening upon the dead man’s throat and gradually drag- 
ging him up from the ground. Higher and higher it rose, that 
ghastly freight, the body hanging at an angle from the wall, 
the neck stretching under the weight and friction, as if the 
body must break away from the head. The fear of that 
seemed to impress the parson at the winch, for looking at 
it fixedly he turned slower and more slow, until at length 
the bulk having risen above the parapet, the long, thin legs 
slipped over and fell within the mouth of the well. The parson 
stopped, looking up at the dead man, as, released from the 
strain, it turned slowly round like a man hanging from a gal- 
lows. The two rascals in the shed, looking on at this scene 
with a horrid interest which no event in their criminal lives 
had ever so aroused, fancied that they saw a grin in the 
parson’s face as he regarded his brother churchman thus 
hanging. 

Then he unwound the winch and the body slowly dropped 
out of sight. When the chain hung loose he left the windlass, 
bent over the wall, shaking the chain until the hook was dis- 
engaged, and then wound it up to its original position. The 
ratchet fastened, he hung the basket up as he found it, and 
with his chin in his hand, his shoulders bent, and walking on 
his toes he quietly crossed the yard and disappeared amongst 
the evergreens. 

The two sharpers waited, breathing softly, still silent with 
a nameless fear, until a click, audible to them even at that 
distance, told that the parson had re-entered the house and 
shut the window. Then they whispered : 

‘‘ My God, if that was one of us ! ” 

“ What are we ought to do ? ” 

“ Git out er this like a shot, and say nuffin to nobody. A 
bloke like that could swear our lives away. Who’d believe 
two free-card players if we told the truf and that cussed sleek 
vermin said he knowed nuffin about the job } ” 

“ Right you are. It’ll be a lifer for us if we’re found here. 
We’ll get out by that ere gate and down to the race-course at 
a rush ! ” 

“ If I ain’t all of a sweat ! I shall dream of that well and 
the pore old bloke a-swingin’ there.” 


14 


KITTY^S FATHER. 


CHAPTER II. 

KITTY. 

Kitty had gone into the theatre, and I, standing by the 
stage door, was lighting my pipe, for there was yet a quarter of 
an hour before the orchestra was called, when a man leaning 
against the wall at a little distance approached me and said 
in a tone of familiarity — 

“ After you, Mr. Holderness.” 

A gust of wind blew out the lighted vesta as I offered it. 
I handed him the box. He was a middle-aged man of me- 
dium height, dressed in a long ulster, with a red handkerchief 
round his throat. He took off his bowler to shelter the match 
he struck. The flickering light from the lamp over the stage 
door fell on his head, and I saw that his closely-cropped hair 
was quite white, and that his face and lips were clean shaven. 
He raised his hand with the light in it to his pipe. The light 
dancing after each pull shone on his hollow cheeks and his 
high cheek bones, his grizzled eyebrows, the crows’ feet in 
the angles of his eyes, his pinched nostrils and his long upper 
lip ; but I couldn’t make out who he was. He seemed con- 
scious of my perplexity, for, still holding the light before his 
face he turned his eyes towards me, amusement puckering 
the crows’ feet, and said between a couple of whiffs — 

“ You don’t recognize me, I see ? ” 

“ No,” said I, “but that’s not surprising — there’s such a 
lot of you about the place. Everyone knows the leader of 
the band, by sight, but I only know my band and half a dozen 
of the mummers.” 

“ Ah, you set me down for a mummer.” He threw away 
the match and replaced his hat. “ Why ? ” 

“ Because you’ve got a long upper lip, your face is shaved, 
and your hair’s close-cropped.” He gave a low chuckle, and 
replied — 

“ Mummers are not the only people who have to wear their 
hair short.” 

“ I recognized him in that instant. The chuckle did it — 
just as a chance note will return to one’s memory a long- 
forgotten air. 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


15 

“ Good God ! ” I exclaimed in astonishment and with bated 
breath. ‘‘ Is it you, Bob ? ” 

He nodded in silence, and, pressing his arm under mine, 
led me away from the stage door. We paced slowly up to 
the end of the side street, turned and paced back without a 
word. I knew what he meant by saying that actors were not 
the only men who had to keep their hair clipped close, and 
understood now why I had heard nothing of him for so many 
years — he had been in a convict prison ; and as I thought of 
the reckless self-abandonment which had brought a decent 
man to this degradation, a feeling of resentment and anger 
chilled and silenced me. 

“ You’re not very chatty,” he said, after a sigh, as if shak- 
ing off oppressive memories, “ considering it’s fifteen years 
since we met.” 

“ I thought you were dead.” 

“ And you don’t seem well pleased to find that I’m not yet. 
Well, I suppose I ought to have killed myself. It’s the 
quickest way of forgetting. Drink and dissipation don’t do' 
it. Time hardly does it. The short cut’s the best. I ought 
to have died.” 

“ Nonsense, Bob ! A man ought to live down his troubles 
and do his duty, and that’s what you ought to have done. It 
would have been better for you and others.” 

He tossed his head with a contemptuous exclamation, and 
said, nodding towards a wretched old cab-horse drawn up 
before the corner beer-shop, “ You might as well tell that 
poor old hack that if he’d been born with a little more stuff 
and go in him he’d have made the fortune of his owner, 
and better cared for than many a Christian.” 

I could have continued the argument by showing him that 
he had strength and go in him, and that for the seven years 
that I had known him previous to the awful accident in which 
my poor sister Madge was killed he had resisted all those 
temptations to which a genial, lively, and good-looking young 
fellow in the profession is especially subjected — never giving 
cause for the slightest reproach, but the memory of him at 
that time, of the perfect happiness in which he lived with his 
wife, and of the fearful blow which unmanned him and for a 
time absolutely shook his reason, softened my heart and 
silenced my tongue. It was too terrible, too pathetic to talk 
about, even at this long distance of time. 

“ We won’t continue the subject, Bob,” said I, pressing 
his arm with mine. 


i6 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


‘‘ You may be sure I didn’t come round to be blown up,” 
said he. 

“ No. I suppose you want a little assistance.” 

“ Assistance ; no. I didn’t come round for that neither.” 

“ I thought just coming out — ” I suggested with some hesi- 
tion in approaching a delicate matter. 

He gave another quick chuckle — that sign of a sense of 
humor which had helped me more than anything else to 
identify him, and said he had been out some time. 

“ And what are you doing now for a living ? ” I asked. 

“ Oh, horses — anything that comes to hand,” he answered 
evasively. “ But that isn’t what I want to talk to you about. 
I’ve come to call you to account. You’re not so strong as 
you might be, Mr. Holderness. 

“ Why, what have I done ? ” I asked in astonishment, find- 
ing the tables thus turned upon me. 

“ You promised me that Kitty should never go on the 
stage.” 

“ That’s true. But she was only six then, and I could do 
what I liked with her ; now she’s twenty-one and has a will 
of her own.” 

How long has she been on the boards ? ” 

Four years. She would go on. She’s a born actress.” 
As my brother-in-law made no reply, I felt it necessary to 
continue — “The stage isn’t what it was fifteen years ago. 
Bob. We’ve got ladies of title on the boards, and they’re not 
above any business they can get. If you look at last week’s 
* Illustrated ’ you’ll see a picture of the Honorable Misses 
Thingummy doing a skirt dance in a burlesque, and if you 
go in the show to-ni^t, you’ll find Kitty’s skirts quite as long 
as theirs, and her business perfectly modest.” 

“ That’s all right, I’ve seen her every night this week from 
the gallery.” 

“ She was bound to do something for a living. I’m not get- 
ting younger, and salaries on my side of the footlights 
haven’t gone up like those on the other. Since the old man- 
agement at Liverpool broke up I’ve had to put up with what 
I could get — provincials, tours, and that sort of thing, so my 
means are short. Well, I didn’t like to send Kitty out as a 
governess, and she hated the idea. It’s a bad thing to force 
young people into occupations they dislike, and she would 
have been quite beyond my control unless I could have got a 
fixed engagement ; whereas, now, you see, she’s never out of 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


17 

my sight, though I will say this for the dear girl, she’s never 
given me reason to believe that she needs looking after, for 
a more open, honest, affectionate soul never lived. It’s 
Madge living again in her daughter, and ” 

I stopped, for a convulsive twitch of the man’s fingers on 
my arm warned me that he could not think as calmly of the 
lost wife as I of the dead sister. 

“Yes, yes, yes — I’ve got eyes,” he said abruptly, and 
breaking away from the line of thought he asked, “ Has she 
any sweetheart ? ” 

“ She’s had sweethearts since she was in short frocks — 
dozens. Everyone falls in love with her.” 

“ Yes ; but has she fallen in love with anyone } ” he asked 
sternly. 

“ Not seriously.” 

“ So much the worse,” he said, gloomily ; and then in a still 
harder tone he asked, “ That fellow in the O. P. omnibus box 
every night ? ” 

“ Oh, that’s Lord Strathsay,” I replied, scratching my cheek, 
uneasily. 

“ I know, d him. Why is he there every night ? ” 

“ It isn’t likely the management would refuse to let the box, 
is it. Bob ? ” 

“ Does he go behind } ” 

“ He did. Bob. He spoke to Kitty. What he said I don’t 
know, but she told the stag-mag. that if ever he came behind 
again she’d quit the stage the same minute and break her 
engagement, whatever it cost her.” Bob chuckled, and I 
went on — “ There’s nothing to fear ; Kitty shows me every 
letter he sends, and to-night the engagement ends.” 

“ You open at Nottingham -on Monday ? ” 

“ Yes, but it isn’t likely this fool will follow us.” 

“ That depends. If he were a young fellow he might give 
up the chase ; but these middle-aged blackguards, when they 
take to hunting down a girl — you know what they are as well 
as I do. They get bets on, and there’s no knowing how their 
devilry will end. However, I’ll look after that. He won’t 
go to Nottingham.” 

At that moment the call boy came to the stage door and 
seeing me, called out — 

“ The orchestry’s rung, Mr. Holderness.” 

“ One minute,” said Bob, holding my hand as I offered to 
say good-night. “ There are two things I want to say. If 

2 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


l8 

Kitty thinks I’m dead don’t undeceive her. That’s one. The 
next is I should like to see her married and off the boards. 
If a decent fellow comes along, and the only impediment is 
money, just write to me and I may be able to get over that 
difficulty. This address will find me.” 

Looking at the envelope he put in my hand I read — “John 
Evans, Deacon’s Reading Rooms, Leadenhall Street.” John 
Evans was his present alias. 

There was no time to ask for explanation, but all through 
the overture I kept saying to myself, “ How on earth is he 
going to prevent Lord Strathsay following us to Nottingham, 
and how can a man just out of prison make enough money 
to provide for Kitty if necessary ? ” The only answer I could 
find to these questions was — by violence and robbery. 

As soon as the curtain rose on the dark scene of the panto- 
mime opening, I turned my head and glanced up at the gallery. 
In the prompt-side corner I saw Bob, his elbows over the iron 
rail, his chin in his hands. That allayed my apprehension 
for the moment ; nevertheless, his presence there did not pre- 
vent the fulfilment of my conclusion that he intended by 
violence to stop Lord Strathsay’s pursuit of Kitty. 

About half-way through the opening his lordship, with a 
couple of friends, came into the O. P. omnibus box, all in 
correct evening dress. Lord Strathsay seated himself in the 
front and nodded to Kitty, who at that moment happened to 
be facing him, with an air of insolent assurance that made 
my blood boil. Kitty went on with her business, taking no 
more notice of him than of anyone else in the house. Her 
performance ended with the scene before the transformation, 
but Lord Strathsay remained in his box as usual, for after 
changing her dress, my niece invariably took a seat in the 
manager’s box on the prompt-side to wait for me. She came 
down that night just at the beginning of the second scene of 
the harlequinade as we were playing the lilt for harlequin 
and columbine. The lilt ended, and the croaking voice of the 
pantaloon was heard in the wings calling — “ Where are you, 
Joey ; where are you ? ” to which the clown from the other 
wing replied — “ Here we are, old man. Oh, sich abit of fun ! 
See what I’ve got,” and he staggered on from the prompt- 
side with a hod of bricks on his shoulder, as the pantaloon 
hobbled on from the O. P. side. Now this was quite a new 
piece of business on the part of the pair who usually have the 
management of the harlequinade, and I watched its develop- 


KITTY 'S F/i THER. 


19 


ement with curiosity, for it is rare that any fresh trick is intro- 
duced on the last night of a pantomime. 

“Why, what have you got there?” squeaked the panta- 
loon, resting on his crutch and looking across. 

“ I’ll show you, old man ; stay where you are,” replied the 
clown, blinking and grinning at the audience as he set down 
the hod, and balanced a brick in his hand. 

These properties are the size and shape of ordinary bricks, 
made of stout canvas and stuffed tight with sawdust, and, as 
a missile, are hardly less formidable than blocks of solid wood. 

“ You ain” a goin’ to chuck them at your old father, are you, 
Joey ? ’ said the pantaloon trembling. 

“ You’ll see what I’m going to do with ’em,” replied Joey, 
blinking and grinning at the expectant audience again, as he 
weighed the brick and sided towards the pantaloon. The 
pantaloon backed along the proscenium and crowded against 
the pilaster beside the O. P. omnibus. Just beyond him was 
Lord Strathsay with his long nose and long moustache, one 
elbow resting on the edge of the box, and his face turned 
towards Kitty in the box opposite. He seemed quite uncon- 
scious of what was going on upon the stage in the insolent 
persistency with which he stared at my niece. Suddenly the 
clown turned and launched the brick with all his force. It 
missed the pantaloon, but struck Lord Strathsay full in the 
face. His lordship staggered, and as he rose, covering his 
face with his hands, I saw the blood dropping in thick gouts 
upon his white shirt-front. 

There was a commotion in the house, and the stage man- 
ager thought it advisable to ring down the curtain at once. 

Leaving the orchestra to join Kitty, I heard all sorts of 
rumors as I crossed the stage. Some said that his lordship’s 
nose was crushed flat with his face, others, that the glass 
of his pince-nez had been broken and driven into his eyes ; 
some said it was an accident, others whispered that it had 
been done intentionally. There was a group at the foot of 
the dressing-room stairs where the clown had stopped on the 
third step and was in high altercation with the stage manager 
below. Catching sight of me, he called : 

“ Here, Mr. Holderness, have you ever said a word to me 
about Lord Strathsay pestering your niece? Mr. Johnson 
here makes out I smashed him on purpose, and that you paid 
me to do it.” 

“ That is not true,” said I. But I knew who had paid him 
to smash his lordship — it was Kitty’s father. 


20 


KITTY'S FATHER, 


CHAPTER III. 

A NEW PLAY. 

We Opened at Nottingham with Henry J. Byron’s admi- 
rable burlesque “ The Miller and his Men ” which we had 
rehearsed at Sheffield during the run of the pantomime, 
Arthur Cooper’s burlesque company having formed the 
nucleus of the show there. 

As I seated myself in the orchestra I looked round the 
theatre with some anxiety. For though I heard that Lord 
Strathsay was seriously injured, I feared that from a feeling 
of revenge he might follow us up, despite his disfigurement, 
for he had rather more reason than others to believe that I 
had instigated Joe Smith to “ smash ” him. 

I dreaded as much if not more to see Kitty’s father, Robert 
Yorke. The possibility that he might avow his relationship 
and take her under his own protection, had kept me awake at 
night and troubled me all day. And there was nothing im- 
probable in the possibility, for despite his expressed desire 
that she should be kept in darkness as to his existence, the 
feeling which had led him to watch her night after night for 
a week might grow, and with the belief that she would restore 
the happiness he had lost by the death of her mother, his 
generous resolution might be abandoned. And what a calam- 
ity that would be for poor Kitty, what a grievous shock to 
her pride, what a cloud it must cast over her life ! Everyone 
in the profession who had known him previous to the over- 
whelming misfortune which made him quit the stage at once 
and forever spoke of “ poor Bob ” with enthusiastic admira- 
tion and kindness. Very few besides myself knew of the 
evil courses to which he took after that event, and out of 
love for Bob and consideration for Kitty, the blemishes upon 
his character were never alluded to. It was supposed that 
he had gone to sea and been lost. There were dozens of 
stories current in evidence of “ poor Bob’s ” generosity, tender 
feelings, and exuberant humor, and Kitty stored them all in 
her memory, looking back upon her lost father as a faultless 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


21 


man, and glorifying him with all the attributes that entered 
her ardent imagination. What must she suffer now to find 
her father an ex-convict and living by means which I had 
only too much reason to suspect he dared not himself acknowl- 
edge. 

So first I ran my eye carefully round the gallery, and 
breathed more freely finding that he was not there ; then I 
glanced at the boxes and stalls, and my satisfaction was 
completed by seeing that Lord Strathsay was not in the house 
either. And as far as this nobleman is concerned, I may 
here say that we have never seen anything of him from that 
day to this. One lesson of the kind he received is enough. 

Business was bad at Nottingham, and at Lincoln, where we 
had hoped to do better, it was even worse. Some said it was 
too soon after the pantomime season for burlesque to do well, 
others that “ The Miller and his Men ” was not up to date ; 
though we had cut out all the old songs and substituted 
topical and music-hall verses of the trashiest and most 
vulgar description ; anyhow there was the fact, and the public 
did not “ hitch on ” as we say. Cooper, a most genial and 
pleasant young fellow when things were hopeful, was gloomy 
and morose, and all of us were more or less discontented and 
quarrelsome. For it was a pretty open secret that Cooper 
had not much money to lose, and we foresaw that one fine 
treasury day our salaries would not be forthcoming ; and it 
was bad enough to play to empty houses. The first night at 
Sheffield we got insulting remarks from the roughs in the 
gallery. I think that these, in conjunction with the miserable 
returns from the box-office, decided Cooper to try something 
else. After the show he took me into his room and said : 

“ You’re a bit of a literary swell, Holderness, and you’ve 
had sufficient experience to know what will fetch the B. P. I 
wish you’d run through half a dozen of these scrips and see 
if there’s anything likely to suit us.” He opened his dress- 
basket and showed me a lot of MS. in the corner, adding, 
“ I’m hanged if I know what they want.” 

“Certainly,” I replied. “Nothing will give me greater 
pleasure.” 

“ Take three to begin with — middle-sized ones. The 
little ones are farces, and the Lord only knows what the big 
ones are.” 

Kitty was delighted when she heard of the task I had 
undertaken. I never knew a more insatiable reader; she 


22 


KITTY^S FA THER. 


devoured all that came before her in the shape of literature, 
but a new play was the feast of feasts. 

“ We will read one after supper,” she suggested, pressing 
my arm as we trotted home to our lodgings. 

I remonstrated, but as usual yielded to her cajolery. She 
opened all three before we had finished supper. One was a 
drama, another a farcical comedy, and the third a “ variety 
entertainment.” It seemed to me that the latter would be 
more likely to suit us, but Kitty declared for the comedy. 

“ I wonder you didn’t select the drama. Kit,” said I. 
“You low comedians always believe that you are born for 
tragedy.” 

She looked at me with her earnest expression — ^for at times 
she could be wonderfully serious, and said : 

“ And is it not a good thing, uncle, to believe that we are 
capable of better things than we do ? I should be sorry to 
think I could play nothing higher than burlesque.” 

“ So should I, my dear,” said I, taking her soft white hand 
and raising her fingers to my lips. 

She smiled and pressed my hand to show that she was 
convinced of my sympathy, and then, pushing back her plate, 
attacked the comedy, while I fetched my pipe. 

“ ‘ The Blue-stocking,’ ” she read ; “ that’s a good title, isn’t 
it? ‘By John Vernon Sherridan,’ and that’s a good name — 
John Vernon.” 

“ If it had been Richard Brinsley ” 

“ Here’s his address — ‘ Pump Court, Temple,’ ” she con- 
tinued, taking no notice of my objection. “ He must be a 
nice fellow, the author.” 

“ Why ? ” 

“ I never knew a Jack that wasn’t nice.” 

“ How about Jack Sheppard? ” I asked, sitting down with 
my pipe. 

But she was already engrossed in the first page of the 
comedy, and it was no trivial thing that could divert her 
thoughts from it. 

I, less eager to begin the work of selection, was well con- 
tent to smoke in silence, watching her rapt face bent over the 
MS., the light of the lamp gilding her soft, dark hair, and 
defining her delicate profile with a bright line. Looking at 
her I felt that desire to be an artist which nearly all of us 
experience in the presence of some beautiful combination of 
form and color. “ If I could paint Kitty as she is,” I said 


KITTY 'S FA THER. 


23 


to myself, “ it would be the prettiest picture in the world.” 
As a poor alternative I fancied I might describe her in my 
diary for my future delight, and so set myself to decide what 
I could say about her features ; but my pipe was smoked out 
before I could find any suitable terms to represent her 
features and their charm as I saw them ; only, whilst I was 
making this endeavor, an air from Don Giovanni kept run- 
ning in my head, and that seemed to express what I felt 
better than anything. And I feel now that it would be as 
useless to attempt to describe Vederei Carina to one who had 
not heard Mozart’s opera, as to try to convey an idea of 
Kitty’s face to those who have never seen her. 

I laid aside my pipe, and opened the “Variety Entertain- 
ment,” with the determination to read it through ; but, 
despite myself, I fell into a doze over the second page. A 
rippling laugh made me open my eyes once ; Kitty had her 
elbows planted on each side of the MS. and her face in her 
hands ; her shoulders were shaking with merriment. I 
closed my eyes, and did not open them until I again heard 
Kitty’s voice. She had finished the play — it was lovely, so 
full of fun, so clever ! “ Oh, you must read just this one 

scene,” she said. 

“ My dear,” said I, “ I can scarcely see to wind up my 
watch. Nearly two ! Good gracious ! ” 

She offered to read it to me, but I stoutly declined to hear 
a word of it till the next morning. And so we parted for the 
night. 

The next morning v/e were in the pokey little sitting-room, 
I stringing my fiddle and Kitty making a beefsteak pudding 
— no one in the world could make such beefsteak puddings 
as hers — when Arthur Cooper dropped in. Kitty had an 
apron with a bib pinned on her print frock, her sleeves were 
rolled up. There was flour on her arms up to her elbow, and 
on her fingers and the tip of her pretty little nose. She was 
rolling the paste on the board before her ; on one side was a 
basin and a jug, a salt-cellar and a pepper-pot, on the other 
a flour dredger and a plate of steak. Newspapers were 
spread on the floor to protect the carpet, the breakfast things 
were on the chiffonier, my fiddle-case was on one chair, the 
MSS. on another, and altogether we were in a fine muddle. 
But Kitty was not a bit put out by this unexpected visit, for 
she had not an atom of false pride. In professional lodgings 
you have to do as you can ; and then we had worked with 


24 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


Cooper so long that we felt almost as if we were of one 
family. 

“ How do, Kitty ? ” said he, jocosely ; “ creating a new 
rble ? ” with a nod at the paste. 

“ Yes, sir,” she replied, with a bob ; “ and if you will stay 
to dinner I hope you may have every reason to be satisfied 
with my performance.” She was just as smart as he at a 
joke. 

“ Well, Holderness,” said Cooper, throwing himself on the 
horsehair couch, after carefully sliding Kitty’s sealskin jacket 
off on to the floor, “ I came round to tell you that you 
needn’t bother to read those scrips.” 

Kitty stopped rolling her paste with something like dismay 
in her face. 

“ What’s happened ? ” I asked. 

“ Alice came home to supper with us last night.” 

Kitty’s brows knitted in anger, and she banged the dough 
viciously. Alice was Cooper’s sister — an overbearing, im- 
pudent little minx — the most showy and exacting member of 
the company. Cooper feared her, and we all hated her. 

“ She and the wife had a row after supper — I believe Alice 
came home on purpose to be disagreeable. And when I 
hinted that we were going to change the bill, she said at once 
she should give it up and look out for another engagement. 
And that’s what we must all do. She sees it’s going to be a 
bad season, and means to scuttle out of the ship before it 
sinks — a little rat ! You know, Holderness, I can’t afford to 
drop my little bit of money, and I know very well we can’t 
go on like this — I dropped coin last week, and this’ll be 
worse. So I thought I would let you know at once, so that 
you might keep your eye open for anything that’s going.” 

“ Kitty’s read one of the scrips,” said I — “ ‘ The Blue- 
stocking,’ a farcical comedy. She says it’s excellent.” 

“ Splendid ! ” said Kitty. “ Oh, it would be a pity to lose 
that — and all for Miss Cooper^' with disdainful emphasis on 
that lady’s name, and another bang at the paste. 

“ No, it’s no go. Look what it would land me into to pro- 
duce a new play.” 

“ No expense at all,” Kitty insisted. “ No properties to 
carry about, stock scenery, only six characters, and no chorus 
girls.” She knew that Cooper constantly grudged the ex- 
pense of the four girls who served as chorus. 

“ How about the author’s fees — who is it by ? ” 


KITTY^S FATHER. 


25 


“ Mr. Sherridan. He does not write author of anything, 
and his address is the Temple, so he’s a gentleman, and 
would not want a lot of money like a regular author.” 

Cooper scratched his head in doubtful silence, and then 
asked me if I had read it. 

“ No ; Kitty was going to read it to me when she had 
made her pudding.” 

“ Just wait till Tve thrown in my steak,” said Kitty, work- 
ing away vigorously. “ I’ll read it, and you will see if it is a 
play to be thrown away just because one person thinks her- 
self too good for us.” 

“ The wife can’t take a leading part, and if Alice goes who 
have we got to fill her place ? ” 

“ Well, Mr. Cooper,” retorted Kitty, drawing herself up to 
her full height, and flouring her fine, dark eyelashes, as she 
swept back a stray curl with the back of her wrist ; “ I think 
I am entitled to some consideration, though I haven’t the art 
of making myself disagreeable. 1 know I could play the part 
of ‘ Our Liz ’ in that play better than your sister could ; and 
there’s a splendid part for you — a retired officer with a game 
leg — General Titup.” 

“ N — o,” drawled Cooper, shaking his head in unsatisfac- 
tory reflection ; “ a new play, you know, is like that pudding, 
Kitty — there’s no knowing how it will turn out.” 

“ But I know it will turn out well, and so would anyone else 
with the common-sense to see that it’s well made.” 

She put the pudding in the saucepan, washed her hands, 
and, with her sleeves still tucked up, sat down, and read the 
play to us. And she read it with such vivacity, such admi- 
rable dramatic expression, impersonating each character by 
some trick of voice or manner and making every point tell, 
and with such irresistible drollery that both Cooper and I 
were fairly carried away. But Kitty would allow him no time 
for reflection or further influence from his family. The pud- 
ding was cooked by the time the play was read, and she in- 
sisted on his staying to see how it turned out. He dined 
with us ; the pudding was excellent, and he, being as super- 
stitious as the rest of professional people, took it as an 
augury promising well for the success of the play. He wrote 
that afternoon to the author, and a few days after told us that 
Mr. Sherridan would meet us at Liverpool, when the new 
comedy would be put up for rehearsal. 


26 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


CHAPTER IV. 

MR. SHERRI DAN. 

We played the burlesque, again to a bad house, at Liver- 
pool on Monday, and the company was called for eleven the 
next morning to hear the new play read. Kitty and I reached 
the theatre as the clock was striking eleven, and found the T 
light up on the proscenium, a table and chair underneath, 
and half a dozen chairs arranged in a semicircle at a little 
distance. All the ladies were there, dressed in their very 
best ; even the four chorus girls, who had been exempted 
from the call, for they knew that authors are to be won by 
good looks and bright glances into making a small part for 
a favorite. The author generally has a very pleasant time 
of it at the beginning, for everyone is anxious to flatter and 
conciliate him with a view to getting a part written up or a 
few lines inserted here and there ; it is after the first altera- 
tions in the text, and when the rehearsals begin in real 
earnest that his real troubles come. So we all looked our 
best. Mrs. Cooper was very handsome in a new hat and 
furs ; Alice Cooper, who had agreed to reconsider her deci- 
sion to quit us until she had heard what the comedy was 
like, looked very showy and attractive in an old-gold plush 
dress and a new mantle ; the chorus girls had smartened them- 
selves up to the best of their ability, and Kitty had gone to 
the expense of putting a Medicis collar on her sealskin 
jacket, and furnishing herself with new boots and gloves. 
Of all the ladies she was the least showy, but to my mind 
the most ladylike. “ Oh, if I were only two inches taller ! ” 
she whispered to me, with a glance at Alice Cooper. That 
was Kitty’s constant regret, though she was quite up to the 
medium height, and would have been out of proportion with 
her small head and hands if she had been but an inch taller. 
I had explained this to her again and again, but it did not 
prevent her buying the highest heeled boots that were to be 
had. 

Presently Arthur Cooper, in a light overcoat thrown open 
to display his frock-coat, with a flower in his buttonhole, his 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


27 


best silk hat, and a new pair of tan gloves, came briskly from 
the wings with the author. All eyes were turned on Mr. Sherri- 
dan, who had not yet been seen by any of us, and I think we 
were all pleased with the look of him — certainly I was. He 
was a fine, tall, athletic, young man of about eight and 
twenty or thirty, broad-shouldered and deep-chested, well set 
up, and he carried himself like a gentleman ; he was easy 
without being careless, confident without being self assertive ; 
no one could doubt that he was a man of good blood and 
good breeding. He was fair, with a light moustache, his 
features were strong and well cut; his frank and fearless 
expression was tempered by the play of a pair of soft gray 
eyes. When he took off his hat to us we could see that he 
had a fine, broad, white forehead, and shining hair with a 
ripple in it. He was dressed in a morning suit of light 
tweed. 

Cooper introduced him to his wife and sister, who both 
gave their hands, and then to the rest of us in a general 
way. I felt a little sore because he did not distinguish 
Kitty from the others, seeing that but for her the author 
would not have been there at all, and I believe Kitty was 
disappointed and hurt also. Mr. Sherridan turned to Mrs. 
Cooper and Alice, while the manager went up to his room for 
the scrip ; and it was clear that Miss Cooper was practising 
all her arts on the handsome young author — glancing side- 
long, biting her under-lip, smiling with a blinking of the eye- 
lids, shrugging her shoulders together, and all the old tricks 
she employed night after night to “ fetch ” the house. I did 
my best to talk cheerfully to Kitty, and stayed by her side 
until Cooper returned with the scrip, and invited the com- 
pany to sit down ; then I left her and joined the chorus girls 
who had found a seat near the wing. 

Cooper sat down on the right of the author by the table, 
and then Mr. Sherridan, with a flush of excitement on his 
face, opened his MS. and began. He read it well, in a clear 
ringing voice, and with proper emphasis ; but Lord ! how tame 
it seemed at this second reading, without the mimicry and 
sparkling humor which Kitty had put into it ! However 
we all looked as if we enjoyed it very much, especially the 
chorus girls and Miss Cooper, who could scarcely contain 
herself in some of the situations. These signs of apprecia- 
tion encouraged Mr. Sherridan, and it was only natural that 
when he looked up his eye should meet Miss Cooper’s, who 


28 


KITTY^S FA THER. 


sat exactly opposite to him and was so loud in her approval. 
The only one who kept a really serious countenance was the 
poor manager, and he, having unbuttoned his frock-coat, sat 
back in his chair with his legs stretched out and his hands 
plunged into the depths of his pockets, as if he were holding 
on to his shillings that threatened to slip away. Once he 
looked at me, with his brow creased, as if he were asking 
himself what the devil he had seen in the play to accept it. 
During the first act he made one or two objections; but I 
could see by the settled expression of melancholy resigna- 
tion in his face during the second, that he had abandoned 
himself to despair, and in the third his eyes wandered 
apathetically round the empty house as if he never hoped to 
see a full one again. 

When the reading was ended the company rose and drew 
near the^ table. Then Cooper formally asked his sister if 
she woul^ accept the part of “ Our Liz,” with a full determina- 
tion, I believe, if she refused, to make the refusal a pretext 
for postponing the production of the play indefinitely. But 
she accepted at once and emphatically, so he had no choice 
but to give out the other parts and call the first rehearsal for 
the Monday following by which time the parts would be 
written out and distributed. The smallest part in the 
comedy fell to Kitty, and we walked home in secret dejec- 
tion whilst trying to make the best of it. There were but 
three women in the play, and it was only reasonable that 
Cooper should give the second best to his wife. As we 
were sitting down to dinner in our sitting-room we saw 
Cooper and his wife pass, and behind them Mr. Sherridan 
and Alice Cooper who was practising what we called her 
“ Mrs. Kendall smile ” upon him. We said nothing, Kitty 
and I. We felt ourselves to be in very low water then. 

But after the ebb the flow sets in. Mr. Sherridan came to 
the theatre in the evening to judge the strength of the com- 
pany by their performance in the burlesque. He sat in a 
stage box, so I got a glance at him now and then. Except 
her remarkably fine legs Alice Cooper had very little to 
show him that he had not already seen. Her art was all 
superficial, and her success was mainly due to her audacity 
and those smiles and leers, and tricks of manner which she 
had practised on him from the beginning. But Kitty 
evidently surprised him by her reserved power and quick 
humor. He watched her keenly, and with the interest of a 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


29 


man who has the ability to recognize undeveloped talent in 
a young artist. After the show, as I was waiting on the 
stage for Kitty to come down from the dressing-room, he 
came up and introduced himself to me. 

“ I have been watching Miss Yorke’s performance with 
very great pleasure. It encourages me to hope for the 
success of my own play,” he said, as if the other performers 
had excited less agreeable anticipations. “ I only regret 
that the part gives so little scope for her talent.” 

“ I’m sure she will do her best to make the part a good 
one,” said I. 

At that moment Kitty came down, looking as she always 
did, like a thoroughbred little lady. 

“Miss Yorke,” he said, offering his hand, “I want to 
express my feeling of obligation to you. I have found 
since this morning that I am richer than I was, by a 
friend.” 

“ How ? ” asked Kitty, giving her hand, and blushing with 
surprise and satisfaction. 

“ Mr. Cooper has spoken to me very frankly about my 
comedy ; and I learn that if it had not been for you my play 
would never have been accepted by him.” 

“ Did he acknowledge the influence of a beefsteak pud- 
ding t ” Kitty asked. 

“ A beefsteak pudding,” he repeated, with a look of 
perplexity and in a tone as if he doubted his hearing. 

Kitty laughed and told him how Cooper, still hesitating 
about the play, had likened its fate to the pudding she was 
making, and how she had made him stay to see that the 
pudding turned out well in order to bind him by his own 
argument. “ The reading only prepared his mind for 
change ; it was the pudding that decided him,” she said in 
conclusion. 

He laughed heartily at the story, and it at once put us on 
friendly terms ; but I observed that in the few sentences 
that followed there was no abridgment of the tone of 
respect in which he had first addressed her. No ordi- 
nary girl would have told that story. Certainly Alice Cooper 
would never have acknowledged to a gentleman that she 
made puddings. But I believe Mr. Sherridan admired 
Kitty the more for it ; and that this incident gave him the 
key-note to her character — a character as honest and free 
from vulgarity as his own. 


30 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


Our friendship ripened speedily, and while we were at 
Manchester, where the new play was put in rehearsal, an 
incident occurred which drew us still closer together. After 
the first rehearsal or two which were devoted principally to 
settling the tableaux and arranging the business details of 
the piece, and in w’hich no one was expected to show much 
histrionic ability, it became evident that Alice Cooper was 
totally incapable of playing her part. It was her first 
attempt at comedy, and a miserable failure at that. She 
had no inventive conception, and was too conceited to accept 
suggestions. Under correction she grew perverse and sulky, 
playing with stubborn persistency in the detestable flippant 
style of burlesque, when the whole action of the play de- 
pended on serious treatment. She upset everyone ; and the 
play, instead of improving, grew worse by repetition — the plot 
growing so incongruous and the situations so weak and vapid 
that I myself doubted whether our judgment had not been 
betrayed by Kitty’s vivacious reading. Cooper seemed to 
have no doubt on that point, and regarding us as the authors 
of his coming ruin — for the thing looked utterly hopeless, 
could scarcely give us a civil' word and treated us at times 
with looks of thunder. As for the unlucky author, who had 
undertaken to rehearse his production, he was driven to 
despair by the impossibility of driving his ideas into the 
head of ‘Miss Cooper. It was at the fifth rehearsal that 
Cooper was roused from his state of despondent lethargy, 
and became furious. 

“ That won’t do ! ” he exclaimed, coming to the author’s 
assistance. “We’ll have that scene all over again. Now, 
Miss Cooper, you come in by the door ; I am sitting here.” 

Miss Cooper flounced out and entered once more. 

“ Not like that,” cried her brother. “ Mr. Sherridan’s been 
trying this last half hour to make you understand that you’re 
awfully put out to find me here, and you come in with a grin 
as if I were a dozen miles away. All over again.” 

Miss Cooper shrugged her shoulders and repeated the 
entrance with precisely the same air of jaunty indifference. 

“ Holy Moses ! ” shouted Coo'per in exasperation. “ We 
can’t clown the thing all through. It ain’t a pantomime.” 
Then turning to Kitty he said, “ Miss Yorke, will you be 
good enough to show Miss Cooper how you read this 
scene ? ” 

“ Oh, if Miss Yorke can play the part better than me, she’d 
better do the lot,” said Miss Cooper. 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


31 


“ If the part don’t suit you, you’d better throw it up,” 
retorted the manager. Whereupon Miss Cooper, with a 
scornful sniff, flung her already dog-eared part on the table 
and walked off the stage. 

We knew she would come back in half an hour to take 
up her part again. Mr. Cooper, now brought to the last 
extremity, determined that she should not have the chance, 
and at once offered the part to Kitty. She accepted 
immediately, eager to pull the piece through if it were 
possible. 

“Who’s to read your part — that’s the question?” said 
Cooper. 

“ On that point I think we may safely trust to Miss 
Yorke’s judgment,” said Mr. Sherridan. 

Kitty called Miss Cuthbert, the brightest and most intelli- 
gent of the chorus girls, who had attended every rehearsal in 
the hope that a chambermaid might be wanted. The poor 
girl was radiant with delight and gratitude. 

With this redistribution they took the play again, beginning 
from the opening scene, and the effect of Kitty’s lively and 
intelligent acting was simply -marvellous. The other actors 
caught the spirit of comedy she breathed into the work ; 
the action proceeded without a hitch, the motive became 
comprehensible, the situations developed in a natural order 
and every point told. The spirits of actors, manager and 
author rose as if by magic, and for my own part I could 
scarcely contain the delight I felt in Kitty’s triumph. 

When Miss Cooper returned, expecting to find the company 
at a dead-lock and her brother prepared to apologize for his 
outburst of temper, and discovered that they were bustling 
through the scenes all with unprecedented interest and 
spirit, not a soul taking the slightest notice of her, the morti- 
fication she felt can be imagined. From the stalls where I 
sat, I saw her standing looking on from the wing where she 
thought she was unseen, biting the thumb of her glove 
viciously. But she could not endure it long, and it was as 
well for her that she left before the end of the rehearsal, for 
the congratulations Kitty Teceived and the satisfaction and 
content in every face would surely have made her discom- 
fiture unendurable. 

Success makes everybody amiable. Cooper was not the 
same man. When we met on the stage he shook hands 
cordially, telling me that he felt like shaking hands with 


32 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


himself. “ How do you think it goes now, Holderness ? ” he 
asked. 

“ Splendid ! Capital ! ’’ I replied. 

“ Yes,” he replied cheerfully. “ I think we’ve got, hold 
of a big thing. I’ve weighed it up and I think it will do.” 

If one had asked his opinion before the rehearsal he 
would have “ weighed it up ” with a very different result. 

Mr. Sherridan overtook us as we were going home from 
the theatre. 

“ What can I say to you, Miss Yorke?” he said. “You 
have not only brought my play to life but given it strength 
to live. Success is said to make men ungrateful ; but no 
success can make me forget that I owe everything to you.” 

Kitty blushed with pleasure, and made but a poor reply 
to this compliment, being embarrassed by the impulsive 
warmth of this handsome young gentleman’s address. But 
her constraint soon wore off as our conversation turnc i 
upon the comedy, she had so much to say on that subjec 
We talked about nothing else till we parted at the door of 
our lodgings. 


CHAPTER V. 

A DISCOVERY. 

We continued our tour in the North, playing the burlesque 
at night, rehearsing the comedy in the morning, and enjoy- 
ing our leisure hours to the utmost. For though the fine 
weather made business shockingly bad, to be sure it gave us, 
on the other hand, a vast deal of enjoyment in visiting the 
places of interest through which we passed. Mr. Sherridan 
was continually with us, and neglected no opportunity of giv- 
ing us pleasure. Finding that Kitty and I liked the country 
and driving, he hired a carriage and took us out every after- 
noon : on Sunday we spent the whole day in some pleasant 
excursion. He and Kitty had an inexhaustible theme of con- 
versation in the comedy, and they never tired of talking about 
it. It seemed to me they could think of nothing else ; but I 
fancy now that I was mistaken on that point. ‘ 

Kitty had a real passion for her profession, and her knowl- 
edge of stage craft, together with a natural fund of humor, 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


33 


enabled her to make many admirable suggestions which Mr. 
Sherridan acted upon in bringing the comedy into form. 
He declared that the play was as much hers as his. Every 
rehearsal furnished fresh material for discussion in the after- 
noon, and though I could not take the same deep interest in 
the everlasting subject which, indeed, became in time some- 
what monotonous to me, I was quite content to smoke my 
pipe in the calm satisfaction of seeing Kitty so supremely 
happy. I was not compelled to take part in their discussion ; 
they could do very well without me, and suffered me to oc- 
cupy my mind with my own reflections in peace. 

Mr. Sherridan’s attachment to us — and especially to Kitty, 
doubtless added to Miss Cooper’s exasperation after setting 
flier cap at him. I know that she tried her utmost to excite 
the jealousy of the company and make us dissatisfied. Mr. 
Sherridan was free-handed, courteous, and considerate with 
■'everybody, and Kitty’s tact, her modesty and unswerving good 
■‘temper, won all to her side. To play constantly to bad 
houses was dispiriting, to be sure ; but we consoled our- 
selves with the belief that the comedy would change all that. 
We were all confident that we should have a long run of 
good luck when that was produced. But what made us truly 
contented was that, despite bad business, our salaries were 
paid regularly. There had been only one blank treasury day, 
and before that could create serious difficulty Cooper had 
found the money to pay what he owed us and silence our 
whispered fears. It was a mystery to me then where he got 
that money from, and it puzzled me still more to observe how 
well he bore up against adversity, and with what light indif- 
ference he treated the bad returns from the box-office. He 
was as cheerful as a cricket ; yet I knew he must be losing 
money every night by the disastrous run of the burlesque. 
I could only account for it by giving him credit for un- 
bounded faith in the pecuniary success of the comedy. 

One afternoon when Kitty was so occupied with her dress- 
maker that she could not possibly leave the house, Mr. Sher- 
ridan asked me to go for a walk with him. 

“ Well,” said I, as we started out, “ the time is growing 
short now. Cooper told me last night that he intends to 
produce the play at Chester.” I felt it necessary to talk shop 
to him, and settled that I was in for a good batch of it. 

“ Yes,” said he gravely, “ in ten days I shall know whether 
I am to sink or swim.” 


3 


34 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


“ It’s not quite so crucial as that surely, sir ; for even if 
this piece doesn’t take you may write another that will.” 

“ No,” he replied in the same grave tone. “ I shall never 
have another such chance as this. Without such help as I’ve 
had from Miss Yorke the play could never have been what 
it is. And if, with such help, I fail, I shall never attempt to 
write another. Failure involves a great deal more than you 
suspect, Holderness,” he turned his eyes to me with that kind 
smile which made his face so pleasant to look into. “ It is 
not simply the temporary gratification of literary ambition that 
I am striving for, but the happiness of a lifetime.” 

I was astonished to hear this ; but to avoid the appear- 
ance of being inquisitive, I observed that the play would 
be produced under favorable conditions, as the house would 
be sure to fill in consequence of its being Cup w'eek at Ches- 
ter. 

“ Yes,” said he, pulling his moustache reflectively, “ but I 
regret that we’re going to produce it there. My grandfather 
is the rector of St. Botolph’s and I’m afraid he’ll be horribly 
scandalized by seeing my name placarded over the town — • 
perhaps cheek by jowl with his own — mine as the author of 
a farcical comedy, his in connection, may be, with some pious 
function.” 

“ There is nothing dishonorable in the profession of a 
dramatist, and I should have thought that in this age of re- 
ligious toleration ” 

“ Religious toleration draws the line at farcical comedy — 
on the wrong side, and a dramatist to be honored must have 
lived, and died, at least half a century ago. My grandfather 
is not a bigot, not an unjust or ungenerous man, but I fear 
he will be greatly offended with me — and I have already dis- 
appointed him grievously. Oh, I ve given him a lot of trou- 
ble — so did my father when he was a young fellow. My 
grandfather wanted him to be a parson. That was not my 
father’s vocation ; he could not stand clerical society. There 
was a split. My father went to London and lived by his 
wits. He married ; my mother died in giving birth to me. 
A maternal aunt looked after me till my father, who went out 
as a war correspondent, was killed in venturing too near the 
lines at Gravelotte ; then my grandfather took me in hand. I 
was only a little chap then, but from the very first, he made 
me understand that one day I was to be a parson. It didn’t 
matter to me then what I was to be ; when I grew a bit older 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


35 


I thought it would be rather a good thing to be petted by all 
the nice girls in the parish and thunder from the pulpit at 
those who were less agreeable. It was only towards the end 
of my term at Oxford, when I began to think seriously for my- 
self, that I came to the conviction that I could never be a par- 
son. I remember it was after a particularly jolly boat-race 
night in town that I settled that question. I told my grand- 
father at once. We fought a long battle over it. I was a prig 
— every young man just after taking his degree is. I tackled 
the old gentleman on scientific and conscientious grounds. 
Put it to him whether a man with my views on evolution and 
things in general could honestly subscribe to the Thirty-nine 
Articles. 1 wanted to be a barrister, and my poor old grand- 
father seeing that I would not be a parson, yielded to my 
wishes. I went up to London with the most serious intention 
to study and prove to the satisfaction of my grandfather that 
I had rightly chosen the profession for which Nature in- 
tended me, and before the end of a twelvemonth I had to 
call upon him to pay my turf debts.” 

“ You proved, at any rate, that you were not exactly fitted 
for the Church,” said he. 

“ Yes ; and also that I had the ability, if left to my own de- 
vices, to ruin my grandfather as well as myself. And recogniz- 
ing that fact, the dear old vicar, after paying my debts, made 
me a present of a handsome check with the promise that he 
would never give me another penny as long as he lived, nor 
pay another shilling of my debts, no matter how contracted. 
He told me that I had broken his heart, and that the only hope 
left to him was that he might never see my face again. I 
cannot say that this sharp lesson made me a prudent man ; 
but a sense of decency, pride, what you will, made me deter- 
mine to avoid making debts which would have compelled me 
to seek further assistance from my grandfather. I cut the 
turf. In time I became a barrister ; but my first brief has 
yet to come. A little literary work on magazines has helped 
me to eke out the means furnished by my grandfather ; but 
my capital has gradually diminished, and I have come now to 
the last of it. If my play fails I must try another profession 
— the army for choice. What do you think, Holderness ? ” he 
asked with a grim touch of humor. “ There s the makings of 
a decent guardsman in me, isn’t there ? ” 

“Good gracious! Mr. Sherridan,” I exclaimed, “you surely 
do not seriously contemplate enlisting! Your grandfather 


KITTY'S FATHER, 


36 

cannot be so inexorable but that he would help you to tide over 
present difficulties till you win a better position at the bar.” 

“ I don’t know,” he said slowly, in a reflective tone. 

“ Have you never communicated with him since that catas- 
trophe ? ” 

“ I went down to see him when I was flushed with the suc- 
cess of being admitted to the bar. Not to ask for help, but 
thinking it would please him to know that I hadn’t degener- 
ated into a regular bad lot. He refused to see me. After 
that, naturally, I did not feel disposed to press the point.” 

“ But pardon me, Mr. Sherridan, ought you not to pocket 
your pride in order to avoid such a calamity as that of becom- 
ing a common soldier ? ” 

“ M — yes, I think I must,” he said in a tone of resignation. 

But I fear the production of my play in Chester will curdle 
any drain of the milk of human kindness that remains in the 
old gentleman’s breast.” 

He walked on for some distance in gloomy silence, and 
then rousing himself he said, “ I felt it right to tell you this, 
Holderness.” 

“ I am flattered by your confidence, Mr. Sherridan ; but I 
do not see any necessity for your taking the trouble to tell me 
your history.” 

“ It was only fair that you should know my position. N ow, 
if the play fails, you will not be astonished at my quietly 
dropping out of sight. You will tell Miss Yorke my story 
and she will not think ill of me if I never turn up again after 
the first night.” He spoke with a little tremor in his manly 
voice, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground. 

“ But,” said I to encourage hope, “ if it succeeds ” 

“ Oh then,” he cried lifting his head, his face lighting up 
with joy and hope — “then it will still be advisable for you to 
know who I am and all about me ; for I shall ask Miss Yorke 
to be my wife.” 

I was too astounded by this announcement to reply ; the 
astonishment in my face seemed to amuse him, for he smiled 
as he continued after a brief pause 

“ Now, going back to our starting-point, you know why the 
happiness of my life depends upon the success of the play.” 

We parted at Mr. Sherridan’s hotel, and I went home in a 
flutter of hope and fear — delighted beyond measure at one 
moment to think that Kitty might become the wife of this 
splendid young fellow, and depressed to the last degree the 


KITTY FATHER. 


37 


next moment by the reflection that within a fortnight we 
might lose him forever. The more I thought about him the 
more I liked him, and my admiration was considerably height- 
ened by the revelation he had thought fit to make. It struck 
me that he had behaved with a very fine sense of honor in the 
self-restraint he had exercised with regard to Kitty, betraying 
nothing of the love he felt for her — so far as I could see — 
that might lead her to form expectations which must be over- 
thrown by the failure of his play. I could not even find fault 
with his imprudence ; for how little principle can the man 
have, thought I, who willingly blinds himself to conscientious 
scruples and accepts a spiritual office for temporal ends ; and 
what a poor-spirited thing must he be who conducts himself 
like a saint at the age of one and twenty ; and how mercenary 
and servile his nature who abandons an independent career 
for a lucrative office which is repugnant to his tastes ! 

Kitty was curious to know what he had been talking about 
in the course of our walk ; but I replied evasively, not daring 
to tell her the plain truth. It would be early enough to tell 
her Mr. Sherridan’s history after the success or failure of his 
play was determined, and as for the main fact, that he loved 
her, I resolved that she should hear it from his lips or not all ; 
for it could well be a life-long disappointment to know that 
such a handsome, affectionate and gallant gentleman might 
have been her husband. But I behaved so oddly at tea-time, 
now losing myself in sombre meditation, presently breaking 
out into a cheerful whistle as fear or hope governed my mind, 
that I believe Kitty, from one or two shrewd glances she cast 
at me, concluded I had been drinking a little too much on the 
excursion. 

The impending fate of the play now excited me to such an 
extraordinary degree that I was anxious to have the opinion 
of everyone interested in it, and finding Cooper on the stage 
after the fall of the curtain, I tackled him on the subject. 

“ Tve arranged a nice little overture for the new piece 
and a couple of entr'actes , I began, rubbing my hands. 

“ No wonder you’re so chipper,” said he, “ two entr'actes 
and an overture — half an hour’s work a night. You won’t do 
too much for your screw.” 

“It’s the prospect of a good run ” 

. “ And nothing to do for a long while,” he interrupted with 
a laugh. 

“ You will have your joke,” said I ; “ but you know well 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


38 

enough that a light score never made me cheerful. If I could 
do anything to make this piece go, I’d do it.” 

“ I know you would,” he replied kindly, slipping his hand 
under my arm and leading me down from the scene the car- 
penters were striking ; and then dropping his voice he con- 
tinued : “ By the way, Holderness, can you let me have fifty 
or sixty pounds ? ” 

I looked at him to see if he were joking still ; but he was 
as grave as a judge now, and I perceived that I had let myself 
in for a pretty thing with my confounded good nature. 

“ I can let you have it back as soon as we begin to pick 
up a bit,” he continued, observing my hesitation. “ The play 
is bound to go — if we can only start it.” 

The significance of this last phrase overcame my qualms. 
All my savings were invested in my brother’s business, but I 
promised to write and ask Charles for the sum required. 

“ When do you think you’ll have it ? ” he asked. 

“ To-day’s Friday,” said I, “ if I write to-morrow, he will 
get my letter on Monday and I shall possibly get a reply by 
Wednesday.” 

This did not seem to satisfy him, for walking me along the 
stage he continued in the same confidential undertone. 

“ You see I expected to get a hundred quid to-night, but 
the party I expected it from, like all the rest of us, is tight up. 
He hasn’t failed before, or else we should have shut up shop 
long ago — you know who I mean.” 

“ Not a bit,” I replied. 

Oh, I thought he would have told you all about it — you’re 
so thick. It’s Sherridan who’s been paying the expenses this 
last three weeks. I’m surprised he didn’t tell you.” 

“ I’m not. He’s too much a gentleman to betray the secret 
of services rendered to a friend.” 

“ I didn’t think of that. Yes, he is a brick. I thought he 
had any amount of money at his command by the freeness 
with which he spends it. But it seems he’s down to the bot- 
tom of his resources, and doesn’t easily see his way to raising 

more. It’s d d awkward. To-morrow’s treasury, you 

know, and there’s the travelling expenses to Bradford on 
Monday. Couldn’t you let me have say twenty or thirty to- 
morrow, old man ? ” 

“ I haven’t got it, my dear boy — there’s Kitty’s new dresses 
for the show, and the dressmaking — when I’ve paid my lodg- 
ings and everything I shan’t have forty shillings left” 


KITTY^S FATHER. 


39 


“ A good job you’ve got that,” said he, disengaging his arm 
with a laugh, “ for there’ll be no salaries to-morrow for a sure 
thing. And I must put the screw on our friend the author, 
or we may not have enough to carry us on to Chester Monday 
week.” 

I scarcely doubted that Mr. Sherridan, under pressure, 
would sink his pride and appeal to his grandfather for a sum 
of money ; but the likelihood of his getting the advance 
seemed to me so improbable that I wrote the next morning, 
begging my brother Charles to send me a check for one hun- 
•dred pounds to the theatre at Bradford. 


CHAPTER VI. 

FOR LOVE OF KITTY. 

When Cooper the next day informed his company that he 
must postpone the payment of salaries until we reached Brad- 
ford there was only one amongst us who heard the announce- 
ment with satisfaction, and that one was Miss Alice Cooper. 

From the day she threw up her part, this ill-conditioned 
young person had not ceased to make herself objectionable 
to her brother, Mr. Sherridan, Kitty, and me. She did not 
attempt to conceal her animosity to us, and her desire to frus- 
trate the production of the new play was palpable to all. By 
all the means in her power she endeavored to create a feeling 
of hostility and dissatisfaction in the company, and though 
she only succeeded in sowing the seeds of discord amongst us, 
she gained a considerable hold upon Mr. Brewster, who was to 
play the part of Lieutenant Mackaw in “The Blue-stocking.” 
She flirted with him abominably, and I felt sure that if she 
could induce him to throw up his part at the last moment she 
would. And this was the more to be feared because we had 
no under-study for that character. Happily the young man 
was in a very seedy and out-at-elbows condition, and for that 
reason was less liable to yield to seduction and sacrifice an 
engagement which might set him on his legs. Miss Cooper’s 
aim was to shake his faith in the success of the piece and so 
weaken his objection to deserting us. As her brother pro- 
claimed the suspension of the salary list I saw a gleam of 
savage satisfaction in her face ; she nudged Brewster with 


40 


KITTY’S FATHER. 


her elbow and nodded to him with a glance that said as clearly 
as words. “ There you are ! I told you so.” They were to- 
gether all day on Sunday. They went to Fordham Castle in 
a fly ; it was obvious who paid the expenses, for the young 
man had not enough to furnish him with a new paper collar. 
Cooper saw what was going on, and the danger that lay be- 
fore us well enough. On Monday when we got to Bradford 
he said to me privately : 

“ I’ve put the screw on our young friend, Holderness ; but 
you might write to your brother for that sixty in case of acci- 
dents.” 

I nodded, but did not tell him that I had already written 
for a hundred, feeling that it would be hard enough to lend 
the money if the worst came to the worst. 

Wednesday came and went. Our salaries were still un- 
paid ; I had received no answer from my brother. Miss 
Cooper and Brewster went off after the show with Miss De 
Vere and our low comedian to take supper together. Miss C. 
in exuberant spirits, the rest with conspiracy written on their 
tell-tale faces, and Cooper was by turns irritable and moody. 
My anxiety increased to such a pitch that when I found no 
letter for me in the stage door-keeper’s room I telegraphed 
to my brother to know if he had received my letter. In the 
course of an hour a reply came. “Absent since Sunday. 
Just returned. Will write you to-day.” 

That afternoon Kitty and I were alone, Mr. Sherridan hav- 
ing gone to London as I believe to see if he could raise money 
there. Shortly after dinner there was a knock at the street 
door ; we heard a murmur of voices in the passage, and then 
the woman of the house came into our sitting-room and pre- 
sented a card which she held in the corner of her apron to 
keep it clean. 

REV’d L. CRAWLEY SHEPHERD, P. A. 

THE VICARAGE, 

ST. BOTOLPH’s, CHESTER. 

While we were reading this, Kitty having come to my side, 
we were startled by a voice quite close to us saying : “ I 
beg your pardon,” and turning we found Mr. Crawley Shep- 
herd, who had followed our landlady, standing in the doorway 
hat in hand. He was a man of medium stature, about forty, 
dressed in the clerical style — black button-up waistcoat, long 


KITTY^S FATHER. 


41 


coat, black kid gloves, soft, broad-brimmed felt hat and the 
indispensable umbrella, which he held in the delicate manner 
of a wand. He had a most bland and beaming countenance ; 
• from the beginning to the end of the interview he never ceased 
to smile. There was gentleness and extreme refinement in 
every action. When he stepped into the light we perceived 
that he had sandy hair, thin, carefully parted down the mid- 
dle, and smoothed down over each temple ; he had a per- 
fectly clean-shaven face and lip, his cheeks were rather full 
and flabby, his complexion sallow and shiny. The amiable 
habit of smiling had worn deep creases from the wings of his 
widely spread nostrils, and these, with his heavy eyelids and 
the yellow tinge of his eyes, were suggestive of a bilious and 
not quite healthy temperament. 

“ I have to apologize for intruding,” he said with an 
accent of deep regret. 

“ Don’t mention it. Take a seat,” I said, with a flutter, as I 
suddenly recollected that St. Botolph’s was the parish of which 
Mr. Sherridan’s grandfather was vicar. 

Mr. Shepherd bowed, coughed, raising the pommel of his 
umbrella to his lips, and turning to our landlady said in his 
blandest tone : 

“ Thank you so much.” 

The poor woman who lived by letting her lodgings to stroll- 
ing actors seemed quite overwhelmed by the urbanity of 
this sanctified visitor ; however, she took his gracious hint, 
and left the room, softly closing the door behind her with 
care, as if she were going out of church before the sermon. 

“ Do you know,” said Mr. Shepherd seating himself, “ I 
have come all the way from Chestah on behalf of the Rev. 
Mr. Rogeh Sherridan, thevicah, to find Mr. John Sherridan; 
and oh ! you cannot tell what difficulties I have encountered.” 

He had a particularly slow delivery, every word seeming to 
be polished before it came out. His pronunciation was 
peculiar, for he somehow managed to make each vowel a com- 
bination of all five ; his exclamations, jerked from the bottom 
of the throat, had the sound of an incipient cough and these 
singularities together with an inability to round the final r 
were made additionally grotesque by the cheerful manner in 
which he related his most unfortunate experiences. 

“ First of all,” he continued, “ I went to the hotel where 
the vicah said I might find him ; but he was not there. Then 
I went to the theatah and inquired at the box-office, and 


42 


KITTY^S FA THER. 


they sent me round to the back of the theatah, and at the 
back of the theatah they sent me round to the front of the 
theatah again ; and at the front of the theatah they sent me 
once more to the back of the theatah. And thence I was 
sent to a most unpleasant public house at the corner of the 
street ; and there was a man who sent me across to another 
unpleasant public house on the other side of the road ; but 
at neither one nor the other had they seen Mr. Sherridan, 
so I returned again to the theatah, where they said I had better 
take a turn at the coffee shops and I might have walked the 
whole afternoon in a fruitless endeavor, for I really believe 
they were making fun of me, don’t you know, if a charming 
young lady who happened to be at the stage door had not 
come to my assistance. And this charming young lady 
amongst other things informed me that if Mr. Sherridan was 
to be found anywhere I should find him here ” 

“ I believe Mr. Sherridan has gone to London,” said I, 
cutting short the interminable narrative. 

“ That is very sad,” he replied gaily, “ for I feah I shall 
have to return to Chestah with my mission unfulfilled.” 

I undertook to deliver any message he might give when 
Sherridan returned. 

“ Thank you so much,” he exclaimed in the same tone with 
which he had given the landlady her cofige. “ But perhaps 
you can give me the information I require, if, as I presume 
from what that charming young lady told me, you are Mr. 
Sherridan’s intimate friends.” 

“ Yes,” said I, fancying I saw the drift of this visit, and 
anxious to serve our friend, “ we have the strongest regard 
for Mr. Sherridan, as everyone must have who knows him 
well ; and I think we may claim the privilege of being his 
most intimate friends, my niece and I.” 

“ Oh, this young lady is your niece ? ” he said, wreathing 
Kitty in his smile. 

“ My niece. Miss Yorke.” 

“ This is an unexpected pleasure. I am so proud to make 
your acquaintance, Miss Yorke. Do you know, your name is 
all ovah Chestah.” 

“ We open there next week,” said Kitty. 

“In “The Blue-stocking,’ by Mr. J. Vernon Sherridan. 
Oh,” (he assumed an arch expression and shook his finger 
at Kitty as if he were scolding a child,) “ I have seen those 
naughty, naughty bills.” 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


43 


Kitty flushed up at this, I too did not know what to think, 
for as yet we in the theatre had not seen one of the new 
bills. Mr. Shepherd continued in the same tone of gentle 
chiding, 

“ And I saw your portrait, too, in that public house at the 
corner of the street.” 

“ I hope you found nothing naughty in that,” Kitty said 
sharply. 

“ Oh deah, no ! I only wished to imply that your versatility 
is no secret from me. It is not everybody who can play in 
comedy and burlesque also. Please do not think that I am 
an enemy of the drama, for I assure you I am not. When the 
vicah told me that his grandson was a play-writah, I did my 
utmost to moderate his angeh and defend the dramatic art. 
Indeed I have made this long journey from Chestah in order 
to justify Mr. Sherridan, if possible, and move the vicah to a 
spirit of forgiveness and love. I desiah to go back to this 
vexed old gentleman and say : ‘ Take your grandson into your 
bosom, for he is a good young man, not given to riotous 
living with dissolute companions, nor prone to drunkenness 
and debauchery.’ ” 

Hearing this, Kitty grew white with anger, her brows bend- 
ing, and her lip curling in scorn ; and it was scorn alone that 
gave her the dignity to remain silent. For my own part I felt 
more inclined to laugh at this description of what our dear 
friend was not. 

“ Well, sir,” said I rising, “ you may assure the vicar that 
his grandson is free of all the faults you have enumerated, 
and you can add on my authority that, play-writer or not, a 
better man never lived. Certainly if any one knows his 
character we do, for morn, noon, and eve weVe seen him, day 
after day, ever since we met at Sheffield.” 

“Thank you much,” cried the Rev. Crawley Shepherd, 
squeezing my hand and giving it a series of short sharp jerks. 
“ I go rejoicing, for I have not come in vain ! ” 

He offered his hand with the same genial effusiveness to 
Kitty ; but she declined it with the most frigid little bow. 

“ You had no business to answer one word about Mr. 
Sherridan, uncle,” she said angrily, when I returned to the 
room, after conducting Mr. Shepherd to the street door. 
“ You ought to have seen that he was pumping you.” 

“ Pumping me,” I exclaimed. 

“ Yes. It was Alice Cooper who sent him. He came here 


44 


KITTY^S FA THER. 


to see what kind of people we were. And instead of resent- 
ing his impudence and showing him the door ” 

“My dear,” I expostulated, “one should answer a fool 
according to his folly.” 

“ Fool ! He is none. He is a hypocrite and a cad. He 
couldn’t smile like that if he weren’t.” 

In the evening Cooper asked me again about the money, 
and I then took the opportunity to question him about the 
bills he had posted in Chester. 

“ Oh, yes, they came from the printer’s last week, and the 
advance agent has billed Chester well,” said he with a laugh 
not altogether free from embarrassment. 

“ Mr. Sherridan has said nothing to me about them,” 
said I. 

“ He hasn’t seen ’em. I don’t want him to, either, till the 
last moment. Fact is, Holderness,” he continued with in- 
creased uneasiness, and scratching his jaw — “ that fool of a 
printer’s made amess of it. It won’t do the comedy any harm, 
but I’m afraid the cut won’t please Sherridan’s delicate taste. 
I told the printer to do a blue stocking, you know. The idea 
was striking and did not cost much to cut. I couldn’t run to 
a lot for posters. I’ve got one in my room ; come up and see 
it. There’s nothing indelicate in a blue stocking, is there ? ” 

“ No,” said I, “ we see ’em often enough in the shop win- 
dows.” 

“ Just so. That was my idea. But you’ll see what the 
printer’s done with it.” 

He took me up in his room and showed me an enormous 
poster on which was the cut in question. It was a simple 
blue stocking, to be sure, but with the addition of a natty little 
shoe, and filled out with a shapely limb. Above it was the 
announcement : 

“ First night of ‘The Blue-stocking,’ a farcical comedy by 
John Vernon Sherridan Esq.,” and below, “The Blue-stocking, 
Miss Kitty Yorke.” 

I was horrified. If anything could shock and outrage the 
feelings of the Rev. Roger Sherridan, it was this vulgar and 
suggestive cut, plastered, it may be, against the very gates of 
his church for all the congregation to see. 

Mr. Sherridan returned the next day, and I knew from his 
manner, and Cooper’s growing despondency, that he had failed 
to raise money in London. I was equally certain that he 
could expect nothing from his grandfather. And on Friday 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


45 


that conviction was verified. Without any sign of emotion 
Mr. Sherridan told me that he had received a letter from his 
grandfather, declining to give him any pecuniary assistance. 
He said no more than that, and naturally he did not show me 
the letter. But I have seen it since, and this is what his 
grandfather said : 

“ My Grandson, — Promise me, upon your honor, never to 
write another stage play, and to sever all connection with Miss 
Yorke and her fafnily., and that part of my fortune which I 
intended to leave you at my death I will settle upon you now. 
Refuse this condition and I will revoke the will I have made 
in your favor, and you shall have nothing from me now or 
hereafter. I give you twenty-four hours for consideration ; 
after that, if I do not receive your acceptance of my offer, I 
shall act as if I had your refusal. Your grandfather, 

“ Roger Sherridan.” 

Mr. Sherridan had not taken twenty-four hours to consider 
the proposal ; he had written immediately, declining it — refus- 
ing a fortune, not, I am sure, for the sake of writing plays, but 
for his love of Kitty. 


CHAPTER VH. 

WE ARE DRIVEN TO TAKE A DESPERATE REMEDY. 

At that time, as I have said, we knew nothing of the sacri- 
fice Mr. Sherridan had made, and there was nothing in his 
behavior to betoken even a moment’s regret or a passing 
doubt as to the wisdom of the course he had taken. When I 
told him of the visit we had received from Mr. Crawley Shep- 
herd he raised his eyebrows with a smile of intelligence — it 
explained to him his grandfather’s stipulation with regard to 
us. I believe he would have plucked out his tongue rather 
than let Kitty suspect by a word that his devotion to her had 
cost him a fortune. He spoke hopefully of success, and did 
his best to reason us out of our fears respecting the produc- 
tion of his play. 

“ Brewster and the rest are more likely to play Miss Cooper 
false than us,” he said. “ They’ll put as much pressure on 
Cooper as they can for the sake of ready money ; but when 


46 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


it comes to the pinch they will not gratify her by throwing 
up an engagement which may bring in their unpaid salaries. 
They have all to lose and nothing to gain by that piece of 
folly. Cooper himself will not suffer that. He is keeping 
his purse shut as tightly as he can, but when the crisis comes 
he’ll open it to avoid a fiasco. Oh, he’ll produce the play; 
the only question is whether he will find it advisable to run 
it.” 

Kitty laying the tea-things at that moment turned about 
with the bread-plate in her hand, and, her eyes flashing con- 
viction, cried: 

“ It shall run. If we get it on the stage we will make it go. 
Oh ! I should be miserable if I doubted that.” 

“Ah ! ah ! ” said I in a bantering tone. “You think the 
play will make your fortune,” and then turning to Mr. Sher- 
ridan with a wink I added, “ Kitty, I’ll be bound, dreams of 
nothing but press notices, and London managers offering her 
leading parts, and is working upon the quiet as an under-study 
for Ellen Terry.” 

Kitty shrugged her shoulders. 

“ Certainly I want to get out of burlesque and pantomime,” 
said she, “ and I should be glad to have a little more money 
to spend. We are all selfish to some extent. But that’s not 
everything,” she glanced from me to Mr. Sherridan, and 
with a blush continued her occupation at the table. Then 
after a moment’s pause, as if not ashamed of the thought that 
had silenced her, she added in a quiet tone. “One may be 
selfish and yet have a fiisinterested wish for the success and 
triumph of one’s friend.” 

Mr. Sherridan, who, seated by the window, bending forward 
with his elbows resting on his knees, was regarding her with in- 
expressible tenderness in his strong face, jumped up with an 
exclamation of admiration, as though by an uncontrollable 
impulse. I thought he was about to tell her there and then 
that he loved her, and that if he made a fortune she should 
share it with him but he checked himself in the instant, and 
fetching the kettle from the fire filled the teapot Kitty held 
in her hand saying only, but with significant emotion in his 
mellow voice, “ You are a little brick, Kitty ! ” 

It was the first time he had ever addressed her by that 
name, familiar as we were, and Kitty flushed and smiled re- 
sponsively, hearing him. 

“ Why, somehow,” she said, “ the piece seems to be part of 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


47 


our life, like a living creature that we have set ourselves to 
bring up, doesn’t it ? We have thought so much about it, 
and worked so hard to pull it together — and it has given us 
so much pleasure ! It’s dreadful to think that after next 
Tuesday there’ll be nothing more to do at it — no more re- 
hearsals ” Her voice fell, and she turned hurriedly to the 

cupboard where she was a long time finding what it was she 
sought. She was thinking, poor girl, that after the produc- 
tion of the play Mr. Sherridan would leave us, and we should 
see him no more. I saw that, and I think Mr. Sherridan 
also perceived what was in her mind. The reflection could 
not have failed to strike him, that for another reason than that 
in her mind the result of next Tuesday’s performance might 
separate him from her forever. 

Well we did our best to make each other regard the 
matter happily ; nevertheless the aspect of things on Satur- 
day was desperately bad. I had received my brother’s letter 
on Friday night, my spirits fell when I opened it and found 
nothing in the form of a remittance inside. He had over- 
drawn his account at the bank. Money was tight. He 
couldn’t possibly raise a hundred pounds without a few days’ 
notice ; but if I still wanted cash he would do his best to 
send some in a few days. When I showed the letter to 
Cooper he told me to wire Charles at once to send as much 
as he could immediately. “ There’ll be a rumpus this after- 
noon,” said he, “ and if we can’t get a bit of money by 
Monday the shop must be shut up.” 

Everyone knew there would be no salaries paid that day, 
nevertheless at the usual time we all collected on the stage. 
Presently Cooper came down from his room with his brisk, 
jaunty air, nodded to us and made a nice little speech of a 
half humorous kind, regretted his inability to pay, and 
promised all sorts of good things as soon as we got to 
Chester. He was very good at this sort of thing, and prided 
himself on being able to keep his company in good-humo'-. 
I expected a general outburst, but the company, after hearing 
him out, left the theatre almost without a murmur. This 
result surprised me ; but what astonished me still more was 
to find that Cooper, who might have felt flattered by the 
success of his speech, seemed the very reverse of satisfied by 
it. “ They’ve got some confounded plot on,” he muttered 

when I went to congratulate him, “ and that d d Alice is at 

the bottom of it.” And I felt sure that he was right in this 


48 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


surmise when on our way home to tea we saw the w'hole gang 
streaming into a restaurant with Brewster and Miss Cooper 
at the head. 

It wasn’t long before I discovered what was in the wind. 
In the evening, as I was smoking my pipe at the stage door 
waiting for the call, my second-fiddle, an old friend named 
Johnson, joined me and said : 

“ Holderness, they are going to ask the governor to let 
them go on to Chester to-morrow instead of Monday. As we 
took his speech so kindly this afternoon he may he disposed 
to agree — especially as it won’t make any difference in the 
price whether they travel to-morrow or the next day. But 
just you give him the straight tip, and tell him to refuse.” 

“ Mfiiy ? ” I asked in astonishment. 

“ Well, I don’t mind telling you because I don’t hold with 
these double dealings, and Alice Cooper is a two-faced 
brimstone baggage. They know that Cooper won’t part, and 
they know he can’t get anything more out of Mr. Sherridan.” 

“ How do they know that ? ” 

“ Why, Alice Cooper knows he went up to London to raise 
the wind if he could, and he couldn’t or we should have got 
our screw. Moreover, we know Cooper had drained him dry, 
because Brewster,meeting him in the High Street this morning, 
noticed that his watch chain was dangling loose. Thinking 
he’d had his watch nicked he, Brewster, said, ‘I beg your 
pardon, sir, but I’m afraid someone has taken your watch.’ 

‘ No — thank you — it’s all right. I left it in London to be 
repaired.’ Well we all know what that means. He’s 
pawned it.” 

“ Poor fellow,” said I ; “ well, go on, Johnson.” 

“ Mark my words, Holderness,” said he, “ they’re not going 
to play on Tuesday night. They’re going to shut Cooper up, 
and do their best to ruin Mr. Sherridan and all who stick to 
him — that’s you and your niece. You can see Alice Cooper 
in that.” 

“ What are they going to do then ? ” 

“ Why, they know that if he breaks his engagement the 
theatre will be to let, and they’re going to take it for the 
week and do a variety show. It’s all mapped out. They’ve 
got three parts of the band on their side, and the thing’s to 
be worked on a kind of co-operative principle.” 

“ I don’t see how they’re to be stopped if they choose to 
go on to-morrow.” 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


49 


“ Oh, there’s some half-hearted ones among the rioters. 
They believe in the play, and won’t decide on chucking 
Cooper over until they know that there’s nothing to be got 
out of him at the last moment. One thing they hope to get 
out of him, and that’s their travelling expenses to Chester.” 

“ What’s their idea in going on to-morrow .? ” 

“ Oh, they want to get the start of Cooper, 'and make sure 
of the lessee in case Cooper can’t produce.” 

I found an opportunity of laying these facts before Cooper 
as my band was going down to the orchestra. 

“ I thought so,” said he, when he had heard what I had to 
say. “ By George, I’ve a good mind to shut up to-night. I 
should save the travelling expenses anyhow.” 

“ I’ll hold myself responsible for that,” said I, the perspi- 
ration breaking out on my temples as I thought of this dis- 
astrous blow to my poor Kitty’s future happiness. “ And my 
brother is sure to send something by Monday.” 

“ I could keep them going — hang ’em — with fifty pounds ; 
but I’ve made up my mind to stick to the little that’s left in 
the old stocking.” 

I felt sure Charles would send me as much as that and I 
said so. 

“ Well, it all depends on that. By George, they shan’t get. 
to Chester half an hour before it’s time to run the rag up on 
the last night of the burlesque — unless they choose to pay 
their own fares. Send another wire to your brother, Holder- 
ness — it’s not too late. We must have that fifty or cave in.” 

On Sunday Mr. Sherridan, Kitty and I went on to Chester, 
and the first advertisement that caught our eyes at the 
station was that abominable bill. It was too striking to 
escape notice. That dreadful blue limb was everywhere. 
The roughs already accumulating in the town for the 
approaching races stopped before it, grinning and making 
unpleasant observations ; the respectable inhabitants on 
their way to church studiously averted their eyes, looking 
more severe than ever. Kitty and Mr. Sherridan were too 
vexed to say a word about it while they were together ; but 
Kitty, when we were alone, gave free expression to her feeling 
of anger and shame. 

“ If it wasn-’t for the play and Mr. Sherridan,” she declared, 

“ I would throw up my part. It is shameful.” 

“ It’s too bad of Cooper,” said Mr. Sherridan as I walked 
with him from our new lodgings to his home. “ Poor 

4 


5 ° 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


Kitty — and my grandfather ! No wonder he refused to 
help me. However, it will be seen that she is guiltless of 
indelicacy, and if it fills the house, as I suppose it will, we 
may forget the present annoyance.’’ 

This affair added to my anxiety. I felt that the play must 
be produced if only to justify Kitty and Sherridan from this 
stigma. If it were not, I foresaw clearly enough that Alice 
Cooper and her set would circulate all sorts of lies about it, 
and lead the public to believe, perhaps, that the production 
had been prohibited by the lessee. 

I could not sleep that night for thinking of these things, 
and torturing myself with the innumerable misgivings and 
apprehensions to which they gave rise. 

By eight o’clock on Monday morning I was up and dressed 
before Kitty, and going to the theatre I hunted up the stage 
door-keeper for the letter I expected from my brother Charles. 
There was nothing for me. I could have sworn with vexation 
and disappointment. On my way home I resolved that I 
would go up to London and get the money we so much 
needed from my brother by hook or by crook. Kitty found 
me poring over a Bradshaw when she came down, and see- 
ing my trouble and vexation (which was in nowise lessened 
by the difficulty of understanding the railway guide), she 
pressed me to tell her what was on my mind. I had kept 
my secret all through Sunday, for I saw no advantage to be 
gained by adding to the anxiety of Kitty and Mr. Sherridan ; 
but now I was compelled to tell her of the conspiracy Alice 
Cooper and her gang had formed to ruin the play, and of my 
intention to go to London and get the fifty pounds which 
alone could save us. Hearing this she became as anxious 
as I to find out what Bradshaw meant, and between us we 
came to the conclusion that a train left Chester for London 
at ten o’clock. 

We hurried through our breakfast and started for the 
station a good half hour before it was necessary, Kitty 
insisting on going to see me off. And well it was that she 
did, for on the way it occurred to her that, having so much 
time to spare, we might as well call again at the theatre to see 
if by chance another post had come in. Sure enough this was 
the case, and amongst the pile of letters on the porter’s table 
we found the expected letter from my brother. To our 
intense joy there was a nice clean check inside ; but our 
hearts fell again like lead when, on opening it, we found that 


KITTY 'S FA THER, 


51 

it was only for twenty pounds. And the letter dispelled all hope 
of getting more, for my brother in apologizing for the smallness 
of the amount, stated, that he wrote in haste (as he had to 
leave London for the Continent and that day Saturday), on 
business which would not admit of delay. So we turned our 
backs on the railway station and returned to our lodging in 
terrible despondency. I had not a word to say. The case 
seemed to me now perfectly hopeless. 

“ After all, twenty pounds is something,’’ said Kitty after 
a while, in a tone which showed that her young and active 
brain was less prostrated by this blow than mine. “ If 
Cooper finds he can’t get more he might take twenty.” 

“ Oh he’d take it fast enough,” said I bitterly. “ But what 
good would that do us. He says he carCt produce the play 
unless he gets fifty pounds, and so far as our happiness is 
concerned, we might just as well throw the money in the 
river, down there.” 

Kitty must have seen the justice of this observation, for 
she made no reply, and we walked on slowly in silence. 
After a while, coming to a seat on the old wall, I said gloomily, 
“ We may as well sit down.” 

Kitty seated herself by my side, and said not a word, while 
I filled my pipe and lighted it. We looked down on the race- 
course and the field stretching away in a great semicircle to 
the shining river. Within the course all was activity and 
movement, men, women and children all busy in setting up 
booths, swings, whirligigs and shooting-galleries in preparation 
for the races. I looked on idly as I smoked, with the vacant 
mind of a man out of employment already, and seeing no 
chance of a new engagement. Kitty also looked down on 
the course, but a glance showed me that her mind was fully 
occupied. 

“ Do you know anything about racing, uncle ? ” she asked 
suddenly. 

“ Not much, my dear,” said I. “ Once I ventured half a 
crown in a sweep-stakes and lost it. That was. when I was 
quite young. I haven’t been on the turf since.” 

“ I heard a man say to another, just now, that he could get 
three to one on ‘ May-blossom’, for any amount What did 
that mean ? ” 

I explained the affair as well as I could. Kitty nodded, 
and there was another pause. Presently she said : 

“ Uncle, how much money do you owe me ? ” 


5 2 KITTY'S FA THER. 

“Well, altogether, I think you have saved a little over 
thirty pounds,” said I. “ Why ? ” 

“ Because if you are not going to let Cooper have that 
check, I shall be much obliged if you will let me have it.” 

“ Certainly I would much rather give it to you than to 
Cooper. Besides, you’ve a right to draw your money when- 
ever you like.” 

“ And use it how I please ? ” 

“Oh, to be sure; only I should like to know how you are 
going to employ it.” 

“ I’ll tell you,” said she jumping up with fixed determination 
in her face. “ I am going to back “ May-blossom,” or any 
other horse that may turn that twenty pounds into sixty.” 


CHAPTER VIII. 

HOW WE SUCCEED. 

It took my breath away. I withdrew my pipe from my 
mouth and could only look at Kitty in bewilderment for a 
minute or two. Then I said : “ Sit down, my child, and let 
us talk about this.” 

She sat down and listened patiently to all the arguments I 
could raise against the folly of betting, but her resolution was 
unshaken. 

“ After all, it isn’t so hopeless as giving the money to 
Cooper. You agree to that. And the worst horse must 
sometimes win or no one would bet. And if the chance is 
ever so small it’s better than doing nothing with the money. 
You would not have refused to let me have my money to 
spend in dresses if I wished to have them ; then why should 
you object to letting me use the money in a way that is a 
thousand times more to be wished ? look how much we have 
to win by it — our position, my reputation, and — and — the 
happiness of a dear friend.” Her soft, kind eyes filled with 
tears as she referred to Mr. Sherridan. Brushing them away 
impatiently she continued : “ And if we lose all, what then ? 
We shall not be much worse off than we are, and for our 
twenty pounds we shall at least have the satisfaction of know- 
ing that we have done our best.” 

“ Well, my dear,” said I, reluctantly yielding to her persua- 
sion, “ I will not say a word to deprive you of that satisfaction. 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


53 

The money is your own. Do what you like with it,” and I 
handed her my brother’s letter with the check inside. 

“ That’s not enough, dear,” she said, pressing my hand 
gratefully. “ You must stake the money for me.” 

“ I ! Why, I don’t know the merest terms of the business. 
We’d better get Mr. Sherridan to do it.” 

“ Not for the world! ” she cried. “ He would know that we 
should not do such a thing in our own interests.” 

At that moment my eye fell on a couple of loafers who had 
seated themselves on the boundary rail of the course below. 
I noticed carelessly, as my thoughts still dwelt on Kitty’s 
proposal, that one of them wore an old gray ulster, and it 
seemed to me that he was looking up at us. His companion, 
dressed in a sleeved waistcoat and tight-fitting cord trowsers, 
looked like a stable-help and was occupied in cleaning out 
his pipe with a straw. There were plenty of men as dis- 
reputable looking as they about the field, but these fixed my 
attention, partly, I believe, because the one in the long ulster 
was evidently regarding us. 

Kitty said something, but I hardly caught what, for it had 
suddenly dawned upon me that the man below was Kitty’s 
father. 

“ And if Mr. Johnson knows nothing about racing,” pur- 
sued Kitty, “ we must go on the course when the racing 
begins and trust to one of those men who stand on boxes 
and ” 

“ Why they’re welchers,” said I. “ Come to that, I’d as 
soon trust Cooper.” 

“ What are you looking at so strangely, uncle ? ” 

“ I, Kitty — looking strangely ? ” 

“ Yes ; for the last five minutes you’ve been staring at 
those two low-looking fellows down there.” 

“ Why, the fact is, my dear — I think I know one of them. 
Used to be on the boards at one time but he took to horse- 
racing and that kind of thing ; and it just struck me that if 
any one could tell us which horse to back, it’s he.” 

“ Go down and speak to him at once. I will walk up 
and down here till you come back. And take this check 
with you.” 

I left her, and following the course of the wall till I came 
to a flight of steps, made my way down to the course. As I 
turned towards the place where I had seen Yorke I perceived 
him strolling towards me alone. He had divined my inten- 
tion and quitted his companion. 


54 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


“ Kitty is up there. She can see you,” he said in a warn- 
ing voice, as I offered him my hand on meeting. 

“ That doesn’t matter. She knows I have come down to 
speak to you.” 

“ Have you told her who I am ? ” 

“ It isn’t likely. The poor girl’s got enough trouble on 
her mind without that.” 

It was a harsh thing to tell a father that his daughter 
would be ashamed of him — as my words implied — but the 
utter self-abandonment of his appearance excited the same 
feeling of exasperation which one experiences with one- 
self in getting into a mess which might have been avoided 
by a little proper attention and care. He had not shaved 
for several days, nor washed neither, apparently ; his boots 
were caked with dry mud, his hat battered and bent ; he 
wore no collar, and his ulster, which had once been smart, 
gave him a detestable, raffish air. He could see that I re- 
garded him with repugnance ; but neither that nor my obser- 
vation about Kitty wounded him : he had grown too callous 
to be hurt by trifles, and he showed his indifference by a 
grin and a toss of the head. 

“ What did you tell her ? ” he asked. 

“ I said you were an old friend who had quitted the stage 
to go on the turf.” 

“ That’s all right. No need to tell her any more. I came 
out to look for you — knew you were coming by the bills.” 

“ I was surprised to see you here.” 

“ Don’t know why you should be, considering the nice 
opinion you seem to have of me.” 

“True,” I retorted. “ I suppose I ought not to feel aston- 
ished at finding you in anyplace where there’s a little rascal- 
ity going on.” 

“No; birds of a feather do flock together, don’t they ? 
Good lot of showmen here all together — farcical comedy 
companies and one thing and another.” 

“ Are you in a show ? ” I asked hopefully. 

“ Palled up with a couple of bruisers in a boxing show. I 
do the talking part of the entertainment.” 

“ As long as you get a living honestly,” I said with a sigh. 

Again he expressed his indifference with a grin andT a 
jerk of the head ; and then to turn the subject he said : 
“ Well, I suppose you didn’t leave Kitty to come down here 
for nothing, Dick ? ” 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


55 


“ No ; the fact is we were talking about racing when I 
caught sight of you ; and knowing that you had spent the 
best years of your life amongst gamblers and persons of that 
sort, and must know a good deal about the turf, I thought 
you might give me some advice about to-morrow’s racing.” 

He looked at me in astonishment for a moment before he 
spoke. “ Do you want a tip — is that what you are driving 
at ?” 

“Yes, that’s it, Bob,” said 1 with a certain feeling of dis- 
comfort in revealing our affairs to him. 

“Is Kitty in it ” he asked. 

“ Yes. She sent me down to you. She has twenty pounds 
that she wants to lay out at three to one.” 

I never saw such a look of incredulous astonishment in 
any man’s face as there was in BobYorke’s, as he came to a 
stand and looked at me with round eyes, puckered brows, 
and his mouth half open. 

“Well, I’m dashed!” he gasped at last. “You come 
down here and talk to me like a district visitor, as good as 
telling me that I’m about as bad as they make ’em, and you 
wind up by cadging for a tip, and asking how you’re to lay 
twenty quid on a horse at three to one. You’re a nice old party, 
Dick, to trust with the bringing up of an only daughter, I 
must say. It seems jw want a talking to. And I tell you,” 
he continued with growing warmth, “ I came out with the 
purpose of hauling you over the coals if I got a chance. 
Look here, my highly respectable moralist, I want to know 
something about this comedy you’ve put my gal into. Those 
blue-leg posters don’t suit my views with regard to Kitty’s 
future — not a little bit.” 

“ That’s all right. Bob, don’t you bother yourself about 
that.” 

“ Oh, I shall bother you a good deal more than I bother 
myself, I tell you. And if I can’t get a satisfactory ex- 
planation it will be a matter of serious consideration whether I 
ought not to take Kitty out of your hands and bring her up 
according to my own notions.” 

I scarcely knew whether he was in earnest or jest, for 
there was a roguish twinkle in his eye at times that suggested 
the existence of a sense of humor despite his degraded 
condition. However, I saw that I must explain our position 
to him, so I told him as briefly as I could all that had hap- 
pened since our parting, not omitting the facts with regard 


KITTY’S FATHER. 


S6 

to Mr. Sherridan’s intentions which I had kept secret from 
Kitty. He listened with close attention to all I said, only 
interrupting my story now and then by a question that 
brought the matter more clearly before him. The point 
that called most for explanation w'as that which referred to 
Mr. Sherridan and his relations with the vicar. 

“ St. Botolph’s — where is that ? ” he asked. 

“ Why the church outside the town, on the hill,” I re- 
plied. 

“And you say the old man has no other relative than this 
grandson.” 

“ None that I know of.” 

“ Hum. And you believe he has refused to give him any 
assistance.” 

“ I feel sure of it. Indeed I should think that this affair 
will cause him to disinherit Mr. Sherridan. However, 
that’s a trifle, if we only get the play on the stage and it proves 
successful, it may be the stepping-stone to an independent 
fortune — which is better than any he might owe to favor ; 
and without a doubt it will make Kitty the happiest woman 
in the world.” 

He nodded, sucking hard at his empty pipe in silence, 
with a look of fixed determination in his face. 

“ So now,” I said in conclusion, “ you know why we want 
— why we must have that fifty pounds.” 

“ Oh, you shall have that — twice the amount. Only I shan’t 
be able to give it you before to-morrow.” 

“ That will do — if I can depend on it by a certain hour.” 

“ You may depend on it. Say three o’clock to-morrow 
afternoon.” 

“ If you keep your word, Bob, you will ensure Kitty’s life- 
long welfare. Of course you can’t get the money before the 
first race is run. Here’s the check.” 

He took the check, looked at it, and then handed it back 
saying, “ I shan’t want that, Dick,” and then adding, hurriedly, 
“ Meet me here, at the foot of these steps at three to-morrow,” 
he turned his back on me and slouched off with the same in- 
dolent gait he had when he came to meet me. He glanced 
askant at a policeman standing by the course ; the policeman 
returned a look of mistrust, and watched him till he joined a 
knot of idlers near the graifd stand and disappeared. 

“ Has he told you what we are to do t ” asked Kitty eagerly, 
when I rejoined her. 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


57 


‘‘ It’s all right, my dear,” said I. “ We shall have to do 
nothing. He has undertaken to manage everything, and let 
us have the money by three o’clock to-morrow afternoon.” 

She regarded me with blank astonishment for a moment, 
then she exclaimed : “ What ! you have trusted that man with 
the money.” 

I thought it best not to undeceive her so I replied evasively : 

“ The money’s safe, Kitty. He’s an honest man though he 
may not look it.” 

She heaved a sigh and said no more, because no doubt her 
reflections were not flattering to my prudence and sagacity. 
For my own part I felt terribly uneasy, not from any great 
apprehension that Kitty’s father would fail to keep his word, 
but from a fear that the means by which he intended to get 
the money, were not such as justified me in accepting it. I 
tried to gulp down my qualms of conscience ; but this phrase 
would keep pestering me : — “ The receiver is worse than the 
thief.” 

Cooper brought the company to Chester about six in the 
evening ; there was barely time for them to secure lodgings 
and gulp down a cup of tea before hurrying to the theatre for 
the last performance of the burlesque. That gave them no 
time for getting at the manager ; and to keep them out of 
mischief, the next morning a dress rehearsal of “ The Blue- 
stocking ” was called for eleven o’clock sharp. 

“ All right,” said he gleefully, when I promised him that 
the fifty pounds should be forthcoming by the next afternoon 
at 3.30. “ I'll keep ’em at it till the last minute ; and Alice 

shan’t enter the theatre after she leaves it to-night. They 
will fear to make any decisive step without a final consulta- 
tion with her.” 

He kept his word. The next morning the company en- 
gaged for the comedy turned up about eleven ; but it was 
twelve before Cooper come in. 

“ Ladies and gentlemen,” said he with the utmost assurance, 
“ you will be glad to hear that I have made arrangements 
which will permit me to pay you your salaries in full before 
we separate this morning. Now, then, we’ll go through the 
rehearsal as quickly as possible.” 

The members of the company looked at each other, and 
couldn’t make it out— Miss Cooper having assured them that 
no salaries could be paid. Johnson told me that she had 
gone off to see the lessee; and so she had; but when 


KITTY^S FATHER. 


58 

she came back radiant from her interview to let her accom- 
plices know that the lessee had agreed to let her have the 
theatre if Cooper was unable to keep his engagement, she 
found all access to the stage barred. Cooper had stationed 
the property-man and advance agent, who were not included 
in Miss Cooper’s conspiracy, at the stage door, and they 
firmly refused to let her pass into the house. Meanwhile the 
rehearsal was dragging along in the most tedious manner. 
Cooper insisting on taking scene after scene over again, so 
that at two o’clock the second act was only just beginning. 
At half-past two he sent out for sandwiches and ale, but he 
permitted no one to leave the stage. That was the position 
of affairs when I left the house to seek Yorke. Outside I 
saw Miss Cooper walking up and down. She looked daggers 
at me, but said nothing. 

I made my way down the steps to the race-course with 
difficulty, for the racing had begun and the crowd of specta- 
tors was immense. However, 1 pushed on, and getting to the 
bottom just as the start was given for the three o’clock heat, 
I found Yorke leaning against the wall. “ Have you got it ? ” 
I asked, panting with my exertion. 

He nodded and jerked his head sidelong that I should 
accompany him to a place where we should be less open to 
observation. 


CHAPTER IX. 

OUR GREAT SUCCESS. 

Kitty’s father had a brown paper parcel under his arm. 
As we got away from the crowd he handed it to me saying : 

“ There’s more there than I promised, Dick. But if this 
event comes off according to your expectations, and if Mr. 
Sherridan acts up to his promise, and makes my Kitty an 
offer of marriage, I should like her to have the rest for a wed- 
ding fit out, you know.” 

A certain hesitation in his manner caused me to say : 

Bob — this money’s all right, isn’t it ? ” 

“ Of course it is,” he answered testily ; then after a brief 
pause he added in a more tender tone : “ I’ve been saving it 
up for her. I’ve earned it all except the box it’s in. That I 
came across by a fluke ; it seemed thrown in my way as a 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


59 

sign. I thought it would look nicer like if you gave it her in 
that.” 

“ Do you want me to tell 1 ix who it’s from ? ” 

“ No, better not, Dick,” he returned with some reluctance. 
“Let her keep on thinking I’m dead and gone till the last. 
Only you might tell her it’s a present from a poor fellow who 
had a great respect for her mother.” For a moment he gave 
way under the sense of his great misfortunes ; then recover- 
ing his self-command he added : “ I shall see Kitty play again 
to-night, and then I shall go away. You’re not likely to see 
me again for some time.” 

“ I thought you were in a show here. Bob.” 

“ So I was, but we had a row yesterday and I’m on another 
job now. Good-bye, Dick.” 

He pressed my hand, and strolled away with his loafing gait, 
and melancholy out-of-luck air. There was a fly at the foot 
of the hill ; I jumped in, and telling the driver to take me to 
the theatre, removed the string that bound the parcel Yorke 
had given me. 

On opening the brown paper I found it contained a sandal- 
wood box, carved all over in deep relief with a curious and 
very artistic design of birds and foliage. It was about the 
width and depth of a cigar-box, but longer. It looked old ; the 
corners were ornamented with black silver, and there was a 
boss of the same metal in the front. I know very little about 
such matters, but it was evident even to me that the box was 
a costly and beautiful piece of workmanship, and I wondered 
then, uneasily, by what possible accident it could have fallen 
into Yorke’s hands. However, there was no time for useless 
speculation of that kind ; the main thing was to find what 
the box contained. Pressing the silver box the lid opened 
with a spring, and I perceived inside a packet of bank-notes 
neatly folded and held together by an elastic band. There 
were fifteen of them, each worth ten pounds ; so that when I 
had slipped five of them in my waistcoat pocket for Cooper, 
there remained just a hundred pounds for Kitty. “ A nice 
little wedding present ! ” said I to myself as I carefully folded 
them and replaced the packet in the box. 

It relieved my mind exceedingly to observe that all the 
notes were quite fresh and clean as if they had just come 
from a bank, which allowed me to believe that they represented 
the honest savings of Kitty’s father. And if he had banked 
those savings in London it was obvious that the time 


6o 


KITTY^S FATHER. 


demanded for furnishing the money was no longer than might 
be reasonably given to going up to town and drawing his 
account. 

The fly rattled up to the theatre just as I finished tying up 
the parcel. I was pleased to see Miss Cooper still waiting 
outside, for that proved that the company had not yet left the 
theatre. At the entrance, Davis, the property man, told me 
that the governor w^as in his room upstairs wafting to see me. 
I found Cooper in conversation with the lessee, Mr. Fox. 

“ Have you got it ? ” he asked the moment I entered. 

“ Yes,” said I handing him the notes from my pocket. 

“ There you are,” said Cooper holding up the notes as he 
turned to the lessee. “ Are you satisfied now ? ” 

“ Yes, I am quite satisfied, Mr. Cooper,” replied the lessee 
humbly, “ and 1 must apologize for having doubted your sol- 
vency.” 

“ Well, you must come down and make that clear to the 
company. It’s the least you can do.” 

The lessee acquiesced, and we went down to the stage 
where they had just come to the tag of the third act. All the 
company stood in a semicircle, with Mr. Sherridan on the 
prompt-side, scrip in hand. 

“ Ladies and gentlemen,” said Cooper — he never missed 
an opportunity of making a speech — “ I have just heard from 
Mr. Fox, with feelings of the deepest surprise and regret, that 
a member of my company — I will not mention names — on 
behalf of other members not less wanting in loyalty and good 
feeling, has represented to him that I am in a state of bank- 
ruptcy, unable to fulfil my engagements and produce the new 
comedy this evening. Mr. Fox will tell you that he has perfect 
confidence in me, and that whether the play is produced to- 
night or not I shall have the sole use of the theatre until Sun- 
day next. Is that the case, Mr. Fox? ” 

“ It is,” said the lessee. “ Mr. Cooper can produce the 
play or keep the house closed as he pleases.” 

The conspirators looked terribly uncomfortable ; after a 
brief pause Cooper continued. 

“ Now if I chose to turn nasty I might just shut up the 
show and leave you to get out of the hole you have got into 
as you best could. But Tm going to show you that the best 
friend a mummer can have is an honest manager. I shall 
pay your salaries as I promised before we part this afternoon ; 


KITTY'S FA THER, 


6i 


we will shake hands and forget this affair, and when we meet 
this evening we shall, I hope, be animated by a cordial feel- 
ing of good-will to do our best for the success of the play, 
and our general prosperity.” 

Cooper was moved almost to tears by his own eloquence 
and magnanimity, and the company were hardly less touched 
w'ith the joy of getting their salaries and escaping disaster. 
When everything was settled up we all shook hands with the 
manager and then with each other, and it was most delightful 
to see the smiling content in those faces which had hardly 
mustered a grin amongst them for the past fortnight. Every- 
one had a joke to cut. But the best of the fun was when we 
all trooped out by the stage door, to see the sudden embar- 
rassment that overcame the turncoats as they perceived Miss 
Cooper sailing down the street to meet them. Brewster 
looked at the clock over the silversmith’s, and bolted off the 
other way as if he had suddenly remembered an engagement ; 
another sneaked into a public house, but the majority stuck 
together in a body and passed their late ally as if they had 
never in their lives seen her before. It was hard on Alice 
Cooper, after waiting in the street so long to meet them ; but 
it was no more than she deserved. 

Mr. Sherridan went home with us to tea. There was but 
little time to spare ; it was now nearly five and we were to be 
at the theatre again by half-past six. We were in a flutter 
of excitement already. Every five minutes Kitty was look- 
ing at her watch. 

“ I wonder how Cooper contrived to raise the wind just in 
the nick of time ? ” said Mr. Sherridan. 

Kitty, behind his chair, looked at me, knitting her eyebrows 
and pursing up her lips. 

“ Oh,” said I, “ he told me he needed only fifty pounds to 
make up his deficiency, and it was certain he would not lose 
his reputation and the chance of recovering all he has lost 
for a sum like that.” 

“ I should think not,” Kitty exclaimed, and then taking up 
the brown papered parcel which, in my excitement, I had 
laid quite carelessly on the chiffonier, she said : “ What’s this 
uncle ?” 

“ My dear, you must not touch that,” said I, “ a friend gave 
it to me to take care of.” And for fear of accidents I took 
it up at once into my bedroom and locked the door before I 
came down, with a fervent prayer that I might have to give 


62 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


the box and its contents to my dear niece before another day 
passed. 

It had been heavy and close all day ; while we were at tea 
a peal of thunder made the windows rattle, and the next 
minute the rain began to plash down on the pavement outside, 
making great discs the size of a penny piece. At another 
time we might have taken this as an evil augury, we being 
rather superstitious in the profession ; but now we hailed it 
as a capital good sign, knowing that it would drive the throng 
of people into the theatre. In five minutes there was a reg- 
ular downpour ; everyone was running for shelter. Yes, 
after weeks and weeks of phenomenally fine weather, the 
rain had come. I felt as if I could stand out in the road and 
get wet through. We were certain now that the luck had 
turned. 

At six o’clock Mr. Sherridan went out to fetch a fly, for 
Kitty had her three new dresses to take to the theatre and it 
was still raining heavily. I thought he would never succeed 
in getting one, but Kitty was more confident. “ He would 
bring me a carriage if he had to take the driver’s place,” she 
said. And sure enough in ten minutes he came back in the 
hotel omnibus, “ the smallest trap he could find ” — and off 
we went to the theatre with Kitty and her precious dresses. 

“ Why, they’re waiting at the doors already,” Kitty ex- 
claimed as we passed the front of the house. So they were 
— quite a couple of dozen, but whether they were there to get 
out of the rain or into the theatre we did not think it neces- 
sary to discuss. 

However, there was no doubt about it at seven o’clock 
when the doors were opened. The crowd then stood in the 
rain right out across the pavement. Cooper in his best dress- 
suit standing on the other side of the pay-place was franti- 
cally exhorting the throng not to crush. There were ladies 
in the crowd, and one was going into hysterics. Oh, it was a 
long time since he had experienced such a delightful ten 
minutes. 

I couldn’t stand it, but I couldn’t keep away either. I was 
obliged to go on the stage and peep through the curtain at 
the audience streaming into the house. There they were 
scrambling over the backs of the pit seats, rushing along the 
dress circle to get in the middle, the attendants losing their 
heads and sending everyone to the wrong side of the stalls, 
and a fight taking place in the gallery amidst such shouting 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


63 


and whistling and screaming, as ordinarily one only hears on 
boxing-night at a pantomime house. While I was standing 
there, Cooper rushed past calling for the property-men to 
write a bill “Pit and Circle full.” You would have thought 
his life depended on getting that bill out. When I went into 
the orchestra at 7.30 I could not see a single gap anywhere. 
Every seat was taken, although Cooper, five minutes before 
the doors opened had removed the lines of demarcation and 
turned four rows of half-crown pit stalls into five shilling 
orchestras, and transformed the whole of the three shilling 
balcony into four-and-six fauteuils. Mr. Sherridan had given 
up his box to the press, and there were a good many repre- 
sentatives of the Sporting and Dramatic papers crowded in 
them ; but in justice to those of the better sort, I must say that 
they paid for their stalls like gentlemen. Up in the gallery, 
in the middle of the front row, there was one head that I 
recognized — a head with close-cropped gray hair. Kitty’s 
father had taken the best place : he must have waited at the 
doors a long while. The roughs up there were still scuffling, 
shouting and whistling about him, but he took no notice of 
them. He had come there to see his daughter and seemed to 
have no regard for anything else. 

“Poor Bob,” I said to, myself, “with all your faults you 
have a good and pure affection for Kitty. You are more to 
be pitied than blamed, for surely if calamity had not over- 
thrown your reason, you would never have given way to in- 
temperance, or fallen under the influence of evil-doers. And 
but for that, you might have been as well off as I, and your 
heart would have been gladdened by the responsive love of 
an affectionate child, instead of living desolate and wretched, 
an outcast and a vagabond ! ” 

I thought no more about him then, for I had my own busi- 
ness to attend to, and I was anxious that my part of the per- 
formance should be up to the mark. I opened my score, 
turned the corners of the leaves, assured myself that all my 
men were in their places, and then fixed my eye on the 
prompt side of the curtain. At length it was drawn aside. 
Cooper nodded to me, I raised my baton gave three taps 
with my foot, looking to the right and left, and then off we 
went. Nothing could have gone better, but the delicacy of 
my andante movement was quite lost on the audience, because 
of the row in the gallery ; however, the roughs quieted down 
in the fortissimo, and my finale was followed by a round of 


64 


KITTY^S FA THER. 


applause. Then the prompt bell struck, and the curtain ran 
up on the first act of the comedy. 

There is no doubt about it ! “ The Blue-stocking ” was a 

genuine success, attained by legitimate and praiseworthy 
means. The dialogue was smart and brisk, bristling with good 
points ; the business was neat and full of ludicrous conceits ; 
the situation was laughable in the extreme, and the serious 
interest running through the plot, never once slackening, in- 
creased with each scene and culminated only at the very 
end of the last act. And it was acted most admirably. 
Every line was taken up smartly, not a point was missed — 
there was not one hitch from beginning to end. Kitty of 
course took the first honors, and she deserved them. Throw- 
ing herself heart and soul into her part, she played with the 
freshness and vigor of a young actress, but with the perfect 
self-control which only comes with full experience of stage 
craft, and a sound knowledge of the art. Whenever she 
came upon the stage a murmur of expectancy ran through 
the house. There seemed to be a general feeling that some- 
thing good was coming ; and not once was this expectation 
at fault. There was a great deal of her own character in the 
naivete and archness she threw into her part, and this de- 
lightful manner combined with her bright, intelligent, and 
beautiful little face, her lithe young figure, and graceful bear- 
ing, made her simply bewitching. 

The rest of the company did their very best, and very well 
they played too, worked up as they were by their own good- 
humor, and the ready appreciation of the audience. The 
house was on the titter from beginning to end, their mirth 
breaking out now and then, with long and loud peals of 
laughter. Their satisfaction and delight found expression at 
the end of each act in such a thunder of applause that the 
curtain had to be raised on the tableau ; and not content with 
that, they thundered again until all the actors had crossed the 
stage before the curtain. It was good to hear such unan- 
imous applause ; for doubtless a good many had been drawn 
to the theatre by the vulgar bills, in anticipation of something 
very different. But I think these people felt pleased with 
themselves in finding their minds capable of diversion by 
seemly wit and honest fun. As for me, though I knew every 
word of the play by heart, I never laughed so heartily at a 
performance in all my life. 

Then when the curtain had fallen on the last act, and all 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


the actors had crossed the stage, hand in hand, there rose 
from the press box and different parts of the house a cry 
for the author, and this being taken up by the rest of the 
audience, who couldn’t have enough of the play, the whole 
house rang with shouts of “ Author ! Author ! ” I cried out 
with the rest, clapping my hands, all my band following the 
example. The curtain was again drawn aside, and Cooper, 
with his wig in one hand, led on Mr. Sherridan with the other. 
On the opposite side the curtain was drawn aside, and the 
rest of the company came on to the stage to join in applaud- 
ing their friend the author. That w'as more to Mr. Sherridan 
than all the plaudits of the audience. He crossed over, and 
taking Kitty’s hand, led her back to where he had left Cooper, 
and standing between them he bowed his acknowledgments 
to the house, and retired, bowing again to Kitty as she passed 
before him. 

I glanced up at the gallery. Kitty’s father was standing 
in his place — almost alone now, turning his hat idly in his 
hands — still looking down on the stage. He was not look- 
ing at me ; he seemed lost in reverie. Maybe he was look- 
ing back through a score of years, and seeing again his lost 
wife, then as radiant with youthful beauty and happiness as 
Kitty was now. When I turned to dive under the stage and 
looked up again, Kitty’s father was making his way slowly 
round the front of the gallery, his hat pulled down over his 
eyes. But his face still turned downwards towards the empty 
stage. 

The house was empty now. There was no one left in it 
but the two attendants silently drawing the long shroud-like 
sheets over the front of the balcony. To me there was some- 
thing sepulchral and depressing in the stillness and vacancy ; 
still more dismal and cheerless must it have seemed to that 
forlorn and friendless man. 


CHAPTER X. 

A MAN OF HIS WORD. 

The scene on the other side of the curtain when I came up 
on the stage from the cellar, presented a striking contrast. 
The set was not yet struck ; the sky and border lights were 

5 


66 


KITTY^S FATHER. 


Still on. They were all on the stage, actors and actresses, in 
their character costume, with the paint on their faces, clustered 
together, shaking hands with the successful author, laughing 
and joking among themselves, and everyone in the highest 
spirits and best humor possible. A boy came on the stage 
with a basket of real champagne, followed by another with a 
dozen champagne glasses ; and the sight of this refreshment 
gave a fresh fillip to the general gaiety. Cooper let us know 
that he could be generous when he was able to afford it. The 
corks popped one after another, the wine frothed in the 
glasses, and when we were charged. Cooper made another 
little speech and we all drank long life and prosperity to Mr. 
Sherridan. Then he replied in a few words which I cannot 
recall to mind, but I know that they were bright and spark- 
ling and generous like the champagne that drove them out 
of my memory. To tell the truth we were all prodigiously 
excited, and I not much less than the rest of the company, 
for though the success of “ The Blue-stocking as a play had 
not that intoxicating effect upon me which, it naturally exer- 
cised upon those whose efforts had achieved this triumphant 
result, I had an additional source of exhilaration in the con- 
viction that my dear Kitty’s happiness was now assured. 
And what greater happiness could I wish her than to be 
united for life to a young man of a warm and generous dis- 
position, bright intellect, honest and healthy in mind and 
body, and a gentleman by birth ? With all the resources of 
art at hand, there was not a man on the stage who could 
make up a face and figure so captivating or assume a char- 
acter so lovable as his. 

As he concluded his reply, he turned to Kitty who stopd 
near, and the radiant happiness in their faces when their 
eyes met and lingered, led me to believe that he had already 
found time to tell her that he loved her, and won her consent 
to be his wife. That was not my opinion only. Cooper, 
coming to refill my glass, said in a sly undertone, 

“ We owe you a lot, Holderness, but you’ve done a good 
thing for yourself, at the same time. It’s a case over there,” 
with a wink and a twitch of the elbow towards Kitty and Mr. 
Sherridan. “ It’s a hundred to one that Sherridan’s popped 
the question already.” 

I laughed, and said I hoped he might find someone more 
disposed to take his bet than I was, and then our conversation 
turned to business. All were talking about the performance. 


KITTY^S FA THER. 


67 

each finding some point of interest to discuss and laugh over, 
and I believe we should have stayed there an hour, engaged 
on the same topic, if the gas-man, seeing no prospect of get- 
ting a glass of champagne for himself, had not cut off the 
border lights ; and the carpenters, following his lead, had not 
come forward to clear the stage. That obliged us to rise 
from the seats we had taken and think of getting home. The 
ladies went off to their dressing-rooms. Cooper, hooking his 
arm in Mr. Sherridan’s, led him away, and in a few minutes, of 
all that mirthful company I was the only one left on the 
stage. 

I knew it would be a good half hour before Kitty came 
down, so I went out to smoke a quiet pipe in the fresh air. 
The stage entrance was quite blocked by a group of gentle- 
men in light racing overcoats, amongst whom I recognized 
Mr. Norris the London manager, and Mr. Fenton the play- 
wright and dramatic critic ; they were asking the doorkeeper 
if Mr. Sherridan and Mr. Cooper were in the house. 

“ Bravo ! ” said I myself as I worked my way past them into 
the street. “ This is good business. These gentlemen have 
seen the play and spotted a good thing, as they say. Norris 
is not the man to let a fine play go dragging about the coun- 
try when he knows it will fill a London House for three or 
four hundred nights. In a little time Kitty’s husband will be 
famous and earning his thousands a year like other suc- 
cessful dramatists.” 

In these and such-like reflections I indulged my imagina- 
tion, slowly pacing the pavement for about a hundreid yards 
on each side of the stage door, till, turning on my heel for 
the twentieth time, maybe, I perceived the same company of 
gentlemen in light coats streaming out of the theatre with 
Mr. Sherridan and Mr. Cooper. They came out laughing and 
talking loudly. Mr. Sherridan, who led with Mr. Norris, was 
so deeply engaged in conversation that he did not notice me 
when we passed, but Cooper who brought up the rear 
recognized me and stopping, said : 

“ Come along, Holderness, we’re going to finish up at thfe 
Albion.” 

I declined, telling him that I was going home with Kitty. 

“ Take her home and then come on,” said he with a wave 
of his hand as he rejoined his companion. 

“ A pretty return to the poor girl for all her devotionj” 
thought I, “ she works night and day with heart and soul, 


68 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


risks the loss of all her little earnings for the success of the 
play ; the play succeeds, and, lo ! Kitty can be left alone 
while we go to the Albion and drink more than is good for 
us. Um ! the women may well say we’re all alike, selfish ! ” 

Certainly my reflections had taken a bitter turn all of a 
sudden. The fact is I felt sore to think that Mr. Sherridan 
should “ wind up ” at the Albion instead of with us. Up to 
that moment I was sure that he had made an offer to Kitty ; 
but now I had strong doubts on the subject, and I went so 
far even as to question whether he intended to keep the prom- 
ise he had made. A man’s view's change so greatly when 
prosperity takes the place of adversity. ' 

Presently Kitty came to the stage door and peeped first to 
the right and then to the left. 

“Alone!” she said in a tone of surprise when I went to 
her. 

“ Yes, my dear,” said I, “ Mr. Sherridan has gone on with 
his friends to wind up at the Albion.” 

She took my arm without a word, and we walked home- 
wards in silence for some time. Then, feeling that I ought 
to defend Mr. Sherridan, I told her that Mr. Norris was of 
the party, and suggested the possibility of their having some 
matter of business to discuss ; “ and you know, my dear,” 
said I, in conclusion, “ business must not be neglected.” 

“ Nor friends, either,” she retorted sharply. I may have 
remarked already that Kitty had a high spirit. “ Business 1 ” 
she continued indignantly, “ that is a man’s excuse for any 
act that betrays a want of feeling.” 

“ After all, we did not tell him that we expected him to 
take supper with us.” 

“ That was one of those things that a friend does not need 
telling. He must have known that we should like to talk it 
all over quietly by ourselves.” 

“ 'Frue,” said I, the feeling of exasperation rising again in 
my breast, “ and to leave us like this without ever saying good- 
night, without leaving a message to say he was sorry he had 
to go to the Albion, was confoundedly unhandsome, especially 
considering what we have done for him and his play.” 

“ You haven’t breathed a word about that money to him 
have you, uncle ? ” 

“ Not a syllable.” 

“ Then how should he know he is under any obligation at 
all to us. What we have done has been quite as much in 


KITTY^S FA THER. 


69 

our own interests as his. If the play had not been produced 
we should both be out of an engagement. It’s only natural 
that a man should wish, now and then, to mix with men and 
exchange ideas upon different things. I should if I were a 
man.” 

“ Well, my dear,” said I testily, “ I shouldn’t have said a 
word about it only I thought you felt yourself slighted.” 

“ Why on earth should I feel slighted ? I’ve no claim 
upon Mr. Sherridan. We are both free to do exactly as we 
please.” 

In this way we disputed all the way to our lodgings, both 
under a feeling of irritation and disappointment, and each in 
turn taking up the cudgels for Mr. Sherridan and against him. 
Neither of us quite knew what we were driving at, but one 
thing was perfectly clear to me, Mr. Sherridan had made no 
offer of marriage to Kitty. 

In our sitting-room we found the supper laid out for three, 
with the lobster salad at one end, a gooseberry pie at the 
other, and a fine piece of roast beef in the middle. Kitty 
and I had made preparation for this feast in the morning, and 
I own that the overthrow of all our pleasant anticipations and 
the reflection that we should have that joint of beef before 
us for the whole of the week, completely took away the ap- 
petite which the sight of these good things created. I hung 
up my hat on the peg behind the door with a heavy heart, and 
Kitty sitting down gazed absently at the floor as she slowly 
drew off her gloves. Seating myself at the table I was about 
to say something disagreeable, feeling unconscionably irrita- 
ble, when by the light of the lamp that fell on her face I saw 
a bright tear stealing down Kitty’s cheek. That melted me 
at once, for surely there is nothing in the world so touching 
as the sight of a young girl’s tears, and my better feelings 
awaking, I thanked God in my heart that I had not let slip a 
word or a hint about Mr. Sherridan’s avowed intention to 
make her his wife if his fortune turned. For in addition to 
the disappointment of all the hopes she might have built 
upon that possibility, what a blow would it have been to her 
faith in the loyalty of mankind to perceive that he whom she 
had set up as the very soul of honor and generosity could 
abandon his purpose and forsake her when she ceased to be 
necessary to his welfare ! 

“ Why, Kitty dear,” said I,“ what’s this ? The reaction too 
much for you, eh ? ” 


70 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


“Na, no, it isn’t that,” she faltered choking down her 
grief and wiping the tears from her eyes. 

“ Then, what is it ? ” I asked, changing my seat and slip- 
ping my arm round her waist. “ Come, tell me all about it.” 

She nestled her face in my shoulder with a little hysterical 
laugh, and squeezing my hand, grateful for sympathy, and 
replied in broken sentences, with a little gulp now and then 
to repress a rising sob. 

“ It isn’t reaction, uncle. Excitement never upsets me, 
you know. It’s the loss of a friend. That’s the real trou- 
ble.” 

“ Why, dear,” said I, trying to put the best face on it, 
“ you take this too seriously. It may be a little thoughtless 
of Mr. Sherridan to leave us like this to-night, but you must 
not think he has abandoned us for good and all because of 
that.” 

“ Oh, no, no, no ! That’s only a trifling disappointment — 
not the real cause at all. We shall forget all about that by 
to-morrow when he comes to bid us good-bye. But it is the 
thought that we shall see him no more after that, or at most 
from time to time like an ordinary acquaintance. He has 
been so much more than that, to us. Every day we have 
been together, and it has seemed so much a part of our life 
that we have set hardly any store by it, have we ? But it 
comes home to us now that we don’t see him here, don’t hear 
his voice, and feel that there is a great gap. It’s no more 
than we might have expected. It was the play that threw us 
together — we talked of nothing else hardly, did we ? And 
now the play is produced, there is no reason for his staying 
with us — he could not, could he ? It’s my own fault,” here 
the tears flowed again in spite of herself. “I should have 
prepared myself for this, knowing it must come. But instead 
of that, when the thought came I have set it out of my mind 
because it was unpleasant. And now it comes suddenly like 
a death, and one is forced to realize that a dear friend is gone 
and cannot be with us any more. And there is no one else 
to take his place — no one in all the world, I think, is like him. 
Don’t think me ungrateful, dear, I know I have you. But I 
can’t help it — I have been so happy. Let me cry. It will do 
me good.” 

I said what I could to comfort the poor child, and suffered 
her to weep. But in the midst of her crying she suddenly 
raised her head, and lifted her hand as she sat with wide 
opened eyes listening. 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


7 


“ It’s he/’ she cried starting to her feet just as I caught 
the sound of a brisk firm step coming down the street. “ He 
mustn’t see that I’ve been crying,” and then she darted up- 
stairs just as Mr. Sherridan’s well-known knock sounded at 
the door. 

“ A thousand apologies,” he said panting for breath, as I 
opened the door. “ I left the theatre with Norris expecting 
to get back again before you were ready to go. Norris had 
an offer to make for the play ; but a matter of more serious 
importance detained me at the hotel. A strange thing has 
happened. I will tell you all about it to-morrow,” then as we 
entered the sitting-room and he found it empty, he asked in a 
tone of surprise, “ Where’s Kitty ? ” 

“Here,” she replied from the top of the stairs j and the 
next moment she joined us, having in that brief space found 
time to take off her jacket and hat, and bathe her face. 
Pretending to turn up the wick of the lamp, I managed to 
lower the shade. 

“ You have come to take supper with us, after all,” she 
said giving her hand. It seemed quite natural that they should 
shake hands although they had parted so recently. 

“ Yes, but I did not come for the supper, Kitty, tempting 
as it is,” he replied still holding her hand. “As your uncle 
knows, something much more vital is in iny mind, and the 
question must be solved before I leave go of this little hand. 
For whether I sit down to that table with a brave appetite, 
or leave it with no desire ever to eat again, depends upon 
your answer. Till this night it has been doubtful whether I 
should sink or swim ; but Norris has made me an offer for the 
play which settles that doubt. I can afford to break silence 
now, Kitty, and the question of all questions is — will you be 
my wife and share the fortune you have helped me to win } ” 

She looked at him in bewilderment for a moment, and then 
with a cry of joy she slid her arm round his neck and laid her 
head on his breast, lifting her face to his. And at this moment 
I thought it advisable to slip out of the room. 


72 


KITTY'S FATHER, 


CHAPTER XI. 

A STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE. 

I WALKED up and down the little entrance passage for some 
time quite content to wait there till I was wanted. When 
one is happy, a lodging-house passage is just as good as a 
marble hall to walk in, and I had every reason to be happy, 
albeit, my conscience reproached me for the hasty judgment 
I had passed on Mr. Sherridan, and the bitter reflections I 
had entertained with regard to him ; but it was a pleasure 
even to know that I had been in error, and to find him, after 
all, not a whit less loyal and lovable than I had formerly 
believed him to be. At length the young lovers discovering 
that I was not in the room opened the door, and with a laugh 
to find me standing outside in the dark passage. Jack (for Mr. 
Sherridan had no other name in our thoughts from that night) 
told me I might come in now. I shook hands heartily with 
him, and taking my dear Kitty in my arms congratulated 
them both as well as I could in such simple words as flowed 
out of my joyful heart. Then we sat down to supper, and by 
the time we had finished, the only fear in my mind with regard 
to the cold beef was, that there would not be enough to put 
on the table the next day. 

When the moment came to separate, and Jack had said 
good-night to us both at least half-a-dozen times, he found 
something fresh to tell me before the final adieu. 

“I may not turn up before twelve or one to-morrow,” said 
he, “ it may be even later. As I told you I heard something 
at the Albion to-night of a nature so serious that I do not 
care to talk about it until I am better informed. I shall oc- 
cupy myself in getting at the truth of it to-morrow morning, 
and you shall know all when we meet again.” 

When the door at length closed on him, and I looked at 
my watch, I found to our surprise that it was past three 
o’clock ; but it was a good hour later before Kitty consented 
to go to bed. 

“ To think that I am to be his wife ! ” she exclaimed hug- 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


73 


ging me round the neck, “ I, Kitty Yorke, to be Mrs. Sherri- 
dan.’’ 

Then seating herself on my knee, she made me tell her all 
that I had known about Jack’s intentions ; that involved my 
narrating all that had passed between us on the day when he 
revealed his position, and his relations with the vicar of St. 
Botolph’s. 

“ And why didn’t you tell me all this when you saw I was 
in grief at the thought of his going away ? ” she asked. 

“ Why, as he had not made you the offer, and had gone off, 
as we supposed, to wind up at the Albion ” I began. 

“ Surely that was no reason for keeping the matter 
secret ! ” she exclaimed interrupting me. “ How could he 
make me an offer when that moment the curtain fell every- 
one was crowding round us ! You knew that the play was a 
success, and you cotildn't thought that Jack would be 
false. That wasn’t like you, uncle, to be so unkind to me or 
so unjust to him.” 

“Well, my dear,” said I, suddenly bethinking myself of her 
father’s gift, “ I’ll admit myself in the wrong, and make you 
the best amends I can think of. Wait a moment.” 

I ran upstairs and fetched the sandal-wood box from my 
room. 

“There, Kitty,” said I, putting the box in her hands, “you 
will find enough in that to pay for your wedding outfit.” 

“ What a lovely box,” she said, and then pressing the silver 
boss at my direction, she was lost in astonishment to find a 
bundle of bank-notes inside. She examined them in silence, 
and then turning to me in perplexity said : 

“ Where did you get all this money from } Yesterday we 
could not make up a quarter of this sum.” 

“ My dear,” I replied, with some hesitation, “ the money 
is not mine. It is a present to you from one who loved your 
mother very dearly. That is all I may tell you ; and I must 
ask you to question me no further on the subject.” 

She looked at the box and its contents again in silent 
bewilderment, and I could see she was burning with curiosity 
to know more about this strange present and its giver, but 
she refrained from questioning me and only said, with a little 


sigh : 

“ It’s dreadful to have a mystery that you may not try to 
puzzle out ; however, I won’t bother you about it. It’s a 
lovely present, and I’m very much obliged to whoever it was 


74 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


that gave it me. You will keep the money for me, uncle. 
The box will do beautifully for my gloves.” 

I took charge of the bundle of notes, and she carried the 
box up to her room where I felt pretty certain it soon ceased 
to occupy her thoughts, having that to think about which 
was far more precious than a sandal-wood box though it had 
been crammed full of bank-notes. It was ten o’clock when 
I got down the next morning. 

Kitty had not yet risen, and I sat down to breakfast alone, 
knowing that she would not make her appearance for another 
hour, as Jack had told us not to expect him before twelve or 
one. But just as I was cracking an egg there came a knock 
at the door which I knew must be Jack’s. A man’s char- 
acter is generally displayed by his manner of knocking at a 
door. Jack’s was always firm and bold ; but this morning 
the knocker fell in a regular joyful peal. 1 was surprised, 
and I guess Kitty was also, and not a little mortified into the 
bargain, to be caught napping at this hour by her lover. 
In he came as I opened the door, fresh, bright, and cheerful 
as the morning, with a great bundle of newspapers under his 
arm. 

“ Splendid notices,” said he, wTinging my hand. “ Col- 
ums of praise and an exhaustive stream of flattering adjec- 
tives for Kitty. Where is she ? ” 

“ Not up yet. We didn’t turn in till nearly five.” 

“ I ought to have thought of that. Poor girl, she must be 
tired out. Confounded thoughtless of me to knock like that.” 

A hurried pattering of feet over the sitting-room ceiling, 
gave me reason to say that I was sure she would be greatly 
disappointed if he had knocked less loudly, and to promise 
that she would be down shortly. “Now let me see the 
notices,” said I. He unfolded the papers and put them before 
me, his face glowing with delight as he pointed out the un- 
stinted praise bestowed on Kitty’s performance. But what 
pleased me almost as much, was to find that one and all of 
the critics wrote with enthusiastic admiration of the play 
itself, describing it as brilliant, witty, masterly and refined. 
The local prints all referred to the fact that the author was 
closely related to the highly respected vicar of St. Botolph’s, 
observing that there was not one line in the comedy which 
the most rigorous moralist could take exception to, or a 
single phrase which a parent might wish to blot out from 
the work of his son. 


KITTY^S FATHER. 


75 


“Come,” said I, pointing out one of these passages to 
Jack, “your grandfather will be glad to read this. Who 
knows but that your play instead of still further estranging 
you from him may lead to a reconciliation.” 

“ Ah,” he replied, becoming suddenly grave, “ that opens a 
subject of a very different kind. I told you last night that 
I was detained at the Albion by a very serious matter.” 

“Yes, and I remember also your saying that you did not 
care to talk about it until you were better informed.” 

“Just so. I have been hunting up information since 
eight o’clock this morning, and I have got all that is to be 
had at present ; that’s why I’m here before the time I ex- 
pected. I heard last night that my grandfather had disap- 
peared in a most unaccountable manner. You can imagine 
the reports that w^ould accompany such a fact. A certain 
class of persons always jump at the very worst conclusions 
in the absence of convincing facts. Rumor last night said 
that my grandfather was murdered.” 

“ Murdered ! ” I gasped. 

“ Of course that is out of the question. I learnt enough 
in five minutes to see that there was no foundation for a 
belief of that kind. The old gentleman has been missing 
since Monday night — that is all which was postively known. 
In effect that is all I know now. But the negative evidence 
is tolerably conclusive that he has not been murdered.” 

“ You have been up to the vicarage this morning, I sup- 
pose } ” 

“ Yes ; these are the facts I collected there.” He took out 
his notebook in which he had pencilled some memoranda, 
and looking at them, continued, “ My grandfather seems to 
have been a man of peculiar, perhaps eccentric habits— as 
a man living alone for the greater part of his life must be. 
‘ Studious, sedentary, silent,’ ” he read. “ ‘ Only one family 
with whom he was closely intimate. Admiral Strong, the 
Cedars ’ — a stone’s throw from the vicarage. I went there 
— the admiral and his daughter away in Ireland, expected 
home to-morrow. ‘ Three female and one male servant liv- 
ing in the house — cook, housemaids and gardener-coach- 
man — all old servants. Rev. Crawley Shepherd also an 
inhabitant of the vicarage, acting as curate, secretary, and 
general factotum seemingly. He was the last person of the 
household who saw the vicar. Servants went to bed at ten. 
Shepherd went up at half-past. Before going, went into the 


KITTY^S FA THER. 


76 

library to see if my grandfather “ had any further require- 
ment of his services that night.” The vicar replied in the 
negative. He was then sitting by the table with a book and 
his reading lamp. When the housemaid came into the room 
the next morning ’ — yesterday, Tuesday — ‘ she was surprised 
to find the French windows giving on the lawn, open. Later 
on it was discovered that my grandfather was not in the 
house. Further search proved that he was not in the neigh- 
borhood, and had not been seen by any of his parishioners, 
or the servants at The Cedars where at first it was thought 
he might have gone. There was no sign of the house hav- 
ing been broken into. Doors and windows were all secured 
except the library window, and that had been opened from 
the inside. He might have opened that for air, but there 
was nothing to show that violence had been committed in the 
room. The police suspected that some of the roughs attending 
the races were concerned in the atfair ; but the vicar’s watch lay 
on the table where he was in the habit of placing it when he 
read, and nothing apparently has been taken from the house. 
That disposes of the idea that thieves made away with the 
vicar. He has no personal enemies, so one cannot impute 
vengeance as a motive for secret crime. So I think we may 
set the notion of murder completely aside.” 

“ That’s a great thing,” said I. “ If the vicar was of an 
eccentric character it is quite possible that he has simply 
gone away for a few days, not thinking that his absence could 
cause alarm.” 

“ Or, not caring greatly — his one friend. Admiral Strong, 
being away. I should think from what I observed, that he 
held the Rev. Crawley in considerable contempt, and was 
fairly indifferent to his feelings. An odd sort of a prig that,” 
he said with a jerk of his head and a smile, “ the i>erfect 
type of a fussy fool.” 

“ Oh, you think he is a fool.” 

“ Can’t help thinking so.” 

Kitty thought him something worse.” 

“ Ah ! Well, I daresay she is right. Women are quicker 
and truer of perception than we.” 

“ Well, you think your grandfather has simply gone away 
for a few days ? ” 

“ M — yes,” he replied, reflectively tapping his knuckles with 
the note-book. “ There was a sheet of paper on his desk on 
which he had begun to write a letter — the date under tho 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


77 


embossed address, and the words ‘ Dear Cunningham,’ were 
written, that’s all. Cunningham, I find, is his solicitor — Lin- 
coln’s Inn. It seemed to me that he broke off there, with 
the sudden resolution to go to London and consult his so- 
licitor personally, instead of by letter. It is reasonable to 
suppose, that being greatly vexed by the production of my 
play, he took this course with the view of getting away from 
the place and shaking off the worry.” 

“ Perhaps Mr. Cunningham may give you some informa- 
tion.” 

“ No. He has already been telegraphed, and his reply is 
that he has neither seen my grandfather nor heard from him.” 

“ Oh, well ; I don’t think you have any cause for alarm,” 
said I, seeing that Jack still looked grave. 

His expression did not lighten, and he replied in the same 
dubious tone as before : 

M — no. Still there is one fact which makes me a little 
anxious. My grandfather’s heart is weak. He is subject to 
syncope, and without proper treatment an attack of that kind 
may be fatal. Now if he had simply strolled in the night 
through the garden, out into the road, anywhere, and was 
seized with one of these fainting fits ” 

“ Why, then,” I interrupted, “ his body would certainly have 
been found before now — the town and all the neighborhood 
being thronged with visitors.” 

“True. Well,” he said, rising briskly and dismissing the 
subject as we heard Kitty’s foot on the stairs, “ we shall see.” 

It rained again that day, and at night the theatre was 
crammed in every part — indeed we played to overflowing 
houses the whole week, and the days flew away with astonish- 
ing swiftness. We had all such cause for happiness that we 
treated the mysterious disappearance of Jack’s grandfather 
more lightly than otherwise we might. Moreover, our appre- 
hensions were greatly allayed by the view Admiral Strong 
took of the affair. But the interview with this gentleman 
was of such a remarkable character that I think I must give 
it a place in the next chapter. 


78 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


CHAPTER XII. 

STIRRING INCIDENTS. 

It was on Friday morning that I agreed to walk up to the 
vicarage with Jack to see if there were any tidings of the 
vicar. On reaching the top of the hill he pointed out a large 
old-fashioned red brick house standing back from the road 
and flanked by a couple of cedars, and told me that it was 
Admiral Strong’s residence. 

“ By the way,” he added, “ we may as well see if the admiral 
has come back,” and with that he pulled the bell handle that 
hung by the side of the wrought iron gates. Jack was not 
light-handed, and the loud sonorous peal that answered to 
his tug might have been heard a quarter of a mile off. It 
scared me. 

“Jolly old place,’*' said Jack looking up the close-trimmed 
box avenue that led to the house, with the greatest unconcern. 

At that moment an old man issued from a side alley, and, 
seeing us at the gate, came down the path with a menacing 
swing which was not the less forbidding because he carried 
an open pruning knife in his hand. He was a short and 
particularly stout man in a light alpaca coat and a straw hat, 
with a full, florid, shaven face, a pair of small blue eyes over- 
hung with thick white eyebrows, and a low-growing forelock 
of silver-white hair curling out from the brim of his hat, which 
was stuck on the back of his head. His eyebrows were 
knitted close together, and his lips were so pursed up with 
firm determination that his mouth was scarcely distinguish- 
able. Whether he was a gardener or the admiral himself I 
could not decide, but certainly he walked with a most seaman- 
like gait, planting his feet well apart at each step as if on 
the lookout for a lurch. I had barely noticed these partic- 
ulars, when I caught sight of a young lady who came also 
from the alley with a bunch of roses in her hand, which prob- 
ably the old man had been cutting for her with that for- 
midable knife. She was a fine, tall young woman, dressed in 
white, fair, with bright sunny hair plaited negligently in a tail 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


79 


that hung coquettishly over her shoulders. I could not well 
distinguish her features at that distance, but she looked amaz- 
ingly pretty I thought. After regarding us for a moment she 
seated herself on a stone bench in a recess of the box hedge, 
and occupied herself in arranging her flowers with a view, I 
expect, to hearing who we were and what our business was. 

“ Has Admiral Strong returned 1 ” asked Jack, as soon as 
the old gentleman was within hail. 

“Yes, he has. I’m Admiral Strong,” answered the sturdy 
old fellow, planting himself before us with his legs astride, as 
if he had to defend the gates with his life. He was, we found 
later, a little hard of hearing, which accounted for his speak- 
ing to us in a loud voice as though we were deaf. “ I’m Ad- 
miral Strong and who the devil are you ? ” 

“ I am John Sherridan,” replied Jack, who was much more 
amused with this odd reception than I was. 

“ Oh, indeed. Jack Sherridan, eh ? the dutiful grandson who 
prefers the buskin to the cassock, and who writes plays be- 
cause his conscience won’t permit him to compose sermons. 
You’re the scrupulous young gentleman who’s put this modest 
town to the blush with a display of blue stockings on all the 
boardings, are you ? ” There was a twinkle in the admiral’s 
little blue eye which I hardly knew whether to attribute to 
fury or a sense of humor. 

“ For present purposes,” replied Jack airily, “ it may be suf- 
ficient to admit that I am your old friend’s grandson.” 

“ Welly I don’t like you any the better for that. And who 
the deuce are you } ”he asked, turning suddenly on me, adding 
as he looked me up and down, “ yo?/ look more like a thief 
than a horse.” 

This last observation took my breath away so completely 
that I was unable to reply to his question, but Jack who never 
lost his self-command, came to my aid. 

“ Permit me to introduce my friend, Mr. Holdemess,” he 
said. 

“ Ah, I know something about you, too, Mr. Holdemess,’^ 
said the admiral. “ There’s a Christian young man in this 
neighborhood whose searching in the path of truth has made 
him acquainted with a fact not very creditable to your char- 
acter. It seems that you are completing the destruction of 
my old friend’s grandson by tackling him on to your niece, 
a young person who dances on the stage to the jigging of 
your fiddle amidships.” 


8o 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


Before I could find a word to reply to this monstrous 
charge he turned to Jack and asked what we had come 
there for — the pair of us. 

“ I came in the hope that you might throw some light on 
my grandfather’s disappearance.” 

“ In plain English, you want to know whether, in my opinion, 
the vicar has been murdered or not.” 

“ That is the sole object of this call.” 

“ That’s an honest confession, at any rate, and you shall 
have the same reply I gave to Mr. Crawley Shepherd, who is 
likewise sniffing about for a legacy. , It’s my firm belief that 
the vicar is now alive, as hale and hearty as I am, and that 
there’s not an old shoe in the vicarage that any one of you 
will step into for a dozen years to come.” 

“ I am delighted to hear you say so,” said Jack. 

“ Well, your cheerful look belies you ; but I suppose a man 
who can write a play can play a part at a pinch. However, 
you won’t get much out of this unless it be the stuff for a 
farce which you might call ‘Blighted Expectations.’ ” 

“ Why ! sir,” replied Jack, with perfect good temper, “ the 
pleasantest expectation I have is that my grandfather will 
return to Chester as soon as I quit it. For I can only ac- 
count for his disappearance by assuming that my presence 
here had made Chester unendurable to him.” 

“ You needn’t take all the credit for that, neither. What 
with roughs and sharpers, we’ve got vagabonds enough of one 
sprt and another without you to make Chester at race time 
abominable to a sober old parson. No matter, black-legs 
and blue-stockings, out you all go on Saturday night, and I 
wager my old friend will return to his pulpit on Sunday. 
There’d have been no question about it, look you,” he added 
with a little less ascerbity, “ but for the mischievous meddling 
of your friend, Mr. Crawley up at the vicarage, confound him. 
But I’ll check these sensational rumors, and to prove my 
contempt for them, hang me if I don’t show myself at the 
theatre to-night and sit out this play of yours.” 

“ I shall be happy to give you a box,’^ said Jack. 

“ No,’^ replied the admiral opening the gate, “ keep your 
orders for the shopkeepers who stick your bills in their win- 
dows. Thank God, I can afford to pay for an evening’s 
amusement when I want it. But,” he added, stepping forward 
and holding out his hand, “ you may give us your fist, for I 
see you’re one of the right sort. Damme if I’d ever trust the 


KlTTY^S FA THER. 


Si 


finest vessel afloat before Td seen how she weathered a bit 
of a spanking sea. As for you, Mr. Chatty” (I had not 
spoken a single word in the whole interview), said he, turning 
to me after shaking Jack’s hand heartily, but without deign- 
ing to offer me the same civility, “ I expect you’re like your 
fiddle — scrape you the right way and something may be got 
out of you, but a punch in the back would knock all the tune 
out of you.” 

“ A nice, pleasant-spoken old gentleman,” said Jack with a 
laugh when we left him. I think he had found something to 
like in the admiral from the very first : but to my mind he 
was the rudest and most offensive brute I had ever met. 

He came to the theatre, as he had promised, in the even- 
ing, with the young lady we had seen in the box-walk. She 
was dressed in the very height of fashion, and was strikingly 
handsome. Whether it was to attract observation, or whether 
th6 play really tickled his sense of humor to an extraordinary 
degree, I cannot say, but certainly the admiral laughed louder 
and longer than anyone in the house, and with his red face 
and shining white curls was as noticeable amongst the au- 
dience as his daughter. 

One advantage we undoubtedly gained by this interview. 
Our fears with regard to the vicar were completely allayed ; 
for surely if anyone could form a just conclusion with regard 
to his disappearance it was this old friend who knew his 
peculiarities so thoroughly. So on Sunday we went on to 
Birmingham, feeling tolerably confident that we should soon 
hear from the admiral to whom Jack had sent his future ad- 
dress, that the vicar had returned to his flock ; but on Mon- 
day morning Jack came to our new lodgings with a grave 
face and showed us a telegram he had just received from 
Chester. 

“Come at once. Bad news. — Strong,” we read, Kitty 
and I. 

“ There’s a train in half an hour,” said Jack, looking at his 
watch. 

Kitty ran upstairs for her hat, saying she would go to the 
station with him. 

“ If I can get away I shall come back to-night to tell you 
all about it,” said Jack. “ I fear from this that my grand- 
father has been found dead.” 

I stood at the door following Kitty and Jack with my eyes 
until they turned the corner of the street, and was then about 


82 


KITTY^S FATHER. 


to turn and re-enter the house when a man, crossing the road, 
attracted my attention with a cough. I recognized him at 
the second glance, though the lower part of his face was 
black with a hairy growth of four or five days, and he wore a 
black cloth cap and a suit of greasy corduroy — it was Kitty’s 
father. 

“ Where are they off to ? ” he asked with a jerk of the head 
towards the end of the street. 

“ The railway station,” I answered. What are you doing 
here. Bob ? ” 

“ I want to speak to you. Let’s go in.” 

He brushed past me and entered the house quickly, as i.f 
he feared ohsefvation. Following him I noticed that he 
carried under his arm a long bundle in a colored hand- 
kerchief. 

“ Is it all right, Dick,” he asked in a tone of anxiety as I 
closed the parlor door. 

“ You should know that better than I,” I answered, thinking 
by his manner that he wanted to know if he was out of 
danger there — “ If you’ve done anything wrong ” 

He interrupted me with an impatient movement of his 
head as he set the bundle on the table. 

“ I don’t mean that,” said he. “ I can take care of myself. 
It’s Kitty I want to know about. Has Mr. Sherridan kept 
his word — is he going to marry her ? ” 

“ Yes, he kept his word, and Kitty has consented to be his 
wife.” 

“ Thank God ! ” he exclaimed. “ When will they be 
back ? ” 

“ Mr. Sherridan is not likely to return "before night ; he 
has gone to Chester.” 

“ Chester ? ” in a sharp tone of interrogation. 

“Yes, something has happened to his grandfather. He re- 
ceived a telegram just now.” 

“ Has Kitty gone with him ? ” 

“ Only as far as the railway station to see him off. She 
must not find you here. Bob.” 

“ Oh, I’ll take care of that. But there’s no time to lose. 
Have you given her that box ? ” 

“ Yes, I gave it to her the night Mr. Sherridan offered his 
hand.” 

“ Where is it now ? ” 

“ The money she gave me to take care of, I asked ? ” 


KITTY FA THER. 83 

“ I don’t want that. It’s the box I’m after. The sandal- 
wood box — where is that } ” 

“Upstairs in her room — she keeps her gloves in it.” 

“ Fetch it,” he said peremptorily, as he hastily began to 
unknot the handkerchief ; and as I hesitated he continued 
still more sharply. “ Fetch it, I tell you. I must have it. 
By a strange accident I’ve found the man who lost it. I must 
give it up. Do as I tell you, Dick, for God’s sake, and don’t 
lose time.” 

His manner frightened me and filled me with an indefinable 
misgiving. I went up to Kitty’s room, emptied the box 
which stood on the chest of drawers, and took it down to the 
parlor. Yorke had opened his bundle and taken from the 
midst of a few articles of clothing another sandal-wood box 
which at the first glance looked very much like the one I 
held in my hand. But when he held them side by side to 
compare them I saw a great difference. The box he had 
brought was larger and flatter than the other : it was darker 
and nrore used, and lacked the silver ornament, and the 
boss.” 

“ It’s the nearest I could find, and it was a stroke of luck 
to get that,” he said. “ It must do. Put it in the place of 
this one — perhaps she will not notice the difference.” 

“ That’s out of the question. She is sure to notice the 
difference,” said I. 

“ I can’t help it,” he replied, hastily, wrapping the original 
box in a gray shirt. “ You must find some excuse. But 
mind, not a word about me.” 

I felt as if I had been awoke from tranquil sleep by some 
unaccountable sound, and stood watching him as he made 
up his bundle, silent with the dread of some terrible discovery. 
As he knotted the handkerchief he said : 

“ Go to the window, Dick, and see if the road’s clear.” 

I did as he bade me and told him that the street was 
empty — then as he made for the door with a nod, I put my 
hand on his arm and begged him in a faltering voice to tell 
me what was the matter. He regarded me for a moment in 
silence and then shaking off my hand with a reckless laugh 
said : 

“ I’ve told you as much as you’re likely to get out of me. 
An accident has happened, and nothing will come of it now 
I’ve got the sandal-wood box, if you only hold your tongue 
about me.” 


84 


KITTY 'S FA THER. 


He opened the street door, pulled it to after him with a 
bang, and when I looked from the window I saw him stroll- 
ing across the road with the stolid indifference of a laborer 
out of work. I lost no time in taking the box Yorke had left 
up to Kitty’s room, my fear leading me to expect her return 
every minute. Then I filled it with the gloves I had laid on 
the dressing-table and set it in the place of the box Kitty’s 
father had taken away. The change might pass unnoticed 
for a time, but it was clear that Kitty must find it out sooner 
or later, for this second box had no fastening and did not 
open with a spring like the other, and I racked my invention 
in vain for a plausible fiction to account for the substitution. 
One. plan, and only one recurred to my mind, and that was to 
leave the discovery to chance, and when Kitty questioned 
me on the subject to declare entire ignorance with regard to 
what had happened ; but I had never in my life knowingly 
told my niece an untruth, and the idea of doing so now was 
the more unacceptable to me because I felt that I should 
never have the courage to brazen out the lie. So, finally, I 
came to the conclusion that it would be better to tell her the 
truth as far as I dared, and no sooner had I opened the door 
to her than I said : 

“ My dear, I have had a visitor during your absence. 
The person who gave you a wedding present through me 
last week has brought another box in the place of that which 
contained the notes. As the request was urgent I could not 
of course refuse to make the exchange, and you will find the 
new box on your wardrobe with the gloves inside it that I 
took out of the other.” 

“ How odd ! ” she exclaimed, adding with a little laugh, 
“ it is quite a romantic mystery.” Then, regarding me in 
silence, with the reflective air of one putting the pieces of a 
puzzle together, she continued, “ someone who loved my 
mother very dearly — and it is not you — and he will not make 
himself known to me.” • 

After another interval of silence she rose, and coming to 
my side, slipped her arms round my neck, and said gently, 

“Can’t you tell me more, dear? Might I not demand 
your confidence ? ” 

“ Kitty dear,” I said, “ you must not tempt me to tell yon 
more. You know it is not want of faith or affection that 
makes me silent.” 

She kissed me, though I think she was vexed that I did 


KlTTY^S FATHER. 


H 

not yield to her wish, and went up to her room without 
another word. I expected she would at least make some 
remark with regard to the box when she came down ; but 
the dear girl abstained from saying anything with regard to 
that or its mysterious origin. 

t Leaving the orchestra between the acts, I found Jack and 
Kitty at the foot of the dressing-room stairs, Kitty listening 
in grave interest, he speaking in a low tone with a serious 
expression on his face. 

“ It’s only too true,” he said, turning to me, “ my grand- 
father is dead, and the conclusion is that he was murdered.” 

“ Why, sir, how is that .? ” I asked. 

“It turns out that he drew out a large sum of money from 
the bank a few days before he disappeared, and now not a 
note can be found anywhere. The box in which he kept his 
loose cash and certain valuable papers is gone from his desk 
also — an old silver-mounted sandal-wood box.” 

With the flash of a horrible conviction I glanced at Kitty, 
and found that she was regarding me, and her face was rigid 
and colorless, like a mask of wax. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

KITTY LEARNS MY SECRET. 

It was not without a vague expectation of seeing Kitty’s 
father that I raised my eyes to the gallery as I re-entered the 
orchestra, nevertheless it gave me a shock to see that he 
actually was there in the place he usually secured in the 
middle of the front row. His possession of the sandal-wood 
box left me no doubt that he was concerned in the robbery 
if not in the murder of the vicar ; his desire to recover the 
box made it scarcely less certain that the discovery of the 
crime had been made known to him. And yet with the 
possibility of apprehension before him, he neglected the 
opportunity of making his escape sure, and lingered at 
Birmingham, scarcely more than an hour's journey from the 
place where the police must be actively engaged in searching 
for the murderer of Mr. Sherridan. Was it, I asked myself, 
the incomprehensible obtuseness which a criminal so fre- 


86 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


quently manifests in the hour of greatest danger, or a pas- 
sionate desire to see his daughter once more before his 
flight — a desire springing from the terrible forewarning that 
he should never again look upon that living image of his 
dead wife ? 

Jack walked home with us from the theatre, but he left us 
at the door, saying that he would run round in the morning 
before leaving for Chester, where the inquest was to be held 
on his grandfather in the afternoon. The moment we were 
alone in the sitting-room, Kitty, closing the door, after as- 
suring herself that the people of the house were not about, 
said to me in a low, earnest tone : 

“ Uncle, who gave you that box with the notes in it } ” 

“ I have told you as much, my dear, as I may tell you,” I 
replied. 

“ You have told me that it was one who loved my mother 
very dearly — but that is not enough.” 

“ I can only beg you again, not to question me further on 
the subject.” 

“ I cannot be silent. I must know,” she said with desper- 
ate earnestness, “ it is a matter'that concerns me too deeply to 
set aside.” 

I sighed, shaking my head, and sat down closing my lips 
resolutely. 

“ Perhaps I know who it is,” she continued, fixing her eyes 
upon my face — “ Is it my father ? ” 

“ My child, there are others who loved your mother dearly 
besides your father. You have met with dozens who re- 
member her with tenderness.” 

“ Yes, but not one who loved me for her sake. Tell me,” 
she entreated, is it my father ? ” 

I shifted uneasily in my seat, and without responding, 
buried my chin in the palm of my hand, and covering my mouth 
with my fingers, as if to prevent the issue of a lie or the 
truth. 

“ If it was not my father who gave you the box ? ” she 
pursued, “ you can have no reason for denying it. You can 
at least tell me all you know about him.” 

“ Haven’t I told you all about him over and over again ? ” 
I answered evasively. “ Didn’t we go all over the ground 
again with old Johnson the other day ? You have heard the 
same story from a dozen old friends.” 

“ Yes. But the story breaks off unfinished. The old 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


87 

friends will tell me of nothing that happened to him after my 
mother’s death. You come to that point and then you glance 
at me and end with a sigh and two little words — ‘ Poor Bob.’ 
I know what that means. When we say ^ Poor Mary ’ or 
‘ Poor Lizzie ’ it means that they have done something which 
we may not talk about openly. I guessed what it meant long 
ago when friends spoke of my father’s kindness and good-fel- 
lowship, and then dismissed the subject with ‘Poor Bob,’ 
and I knew that it was not right for me to know, being a child. 
But I am a child no longer. It is right that I should know 
all that concerns my father now, and it would be wrong to 
shut my eyes to the truth and go onward in willful igno- 
rance.” 

Touched by the dear girl’s earnestness and persuaded by 
her reasoning, I felt that it was impossible to refuse this 
appeal, though I still hoped to avoid betraying the fact that 
the box had been given by her father. 

“ It is true, Kitty dear,” said I. “ Your poor father went 
wrong after your mother’s death. She died, as you have 
heard on the stage — her dress catching fire from a footlight. 
They were more careless about guards than we are now. 
The shock was more than your father’s fortitude could bear. 
It unmanned him. I believe he was out of his mind for some 
time. You were too young then to take the place in his heart 
that had been filled by your mother. There was no longer any 
home for him. The only hope for him was in forgetfulness, 
and he sought that in new occupation, in perpetual change 
of scene, in the acquaintance of men who knew nothing 
about his past, and could not look at him with pity and com- 
passion. He felt the need of continual excitement. He 
drank deeply, and step by step he fell lower and lower. He 
got among a bad set. His incapacity for steady work — for 
you know he never again went on the stage after that night 
— his restlessness kept him down, the influence of bad com- 
panions completed his ruin. We saw him rarely — he avoided 
us and maintained a kind of independence, for whatever his 
necessity may have been he never asked for help. One day 
I heard that he was in prison. He had met some former 
acquaintances, and one had spoken slightingly of his wife. 
Your father nearly killed the man and was duly punished for 
it. I met him when he came out of jail and appealed to 
him to turn over a new leaf for your sake. “ Lend me ten 
pounds,” said he, “ and I will go to America and you shall 


8 ^ 


KITTY'^ FATHER. 


neyer see again.” I gave him the money, believing that 
he would keep his word. But the money came back to me 
in a letter the next week, and it is needless to say that the 
money was not sent from America, Then I knew that he 
had fallen again under the old influences, and felt that there 
was no hope for him.” 

I thought I might end there, but Kitty would not suffer 
that. 

“ What did he do after that,” she asked, with the firmness 
of one resolved to know the worst. 

“ I do not know. I lost sight of him entirely from the day 
I gave him the money.” 

“ When was that ? ” 

“ Ten years s^go.” 

“ How do you know that he did not go to America as he 
promised ? ’’ she asked, quickly seizing the means offered by 
my halting explanations to defend her father. “ Are you 
sure he did not go ? ” 

“ No, my dear.” 

Then might he not have found some way of getting a 
passage in the interval, which allowed him to return before 
starting the money you lent.” 

“To be sure, that might be,” said I, hopefully. 

“ It is consistent with what you say of his independent 
character, and of a desire to start on the new path without 
encumbrance, severing the future entirely from the past.” 

“ To be sure, my dear,” I exclaimed. “ Why didn’t I think 
of that ? ” 

She regarded me with silent suspicion for a moment, as if 
perceiving that I wished to encourage her in a false hope; 
then she said : 

“ When did you see him again ? ” 

“ My dear? ” said I, interrogatively, as if I had not heard 
distinctly. 

“ You said just now, in effect, that he did not keep his 
promise. You have no proof that he did not go to America, 
so what you said must refer to the second part of the 
promise, that you should pot see him again.” 

Perceiving that I was no match for my keen-witted niece, 
at this cross-examination r was silent. 

“ I am not asking you to break any bond of secrecy you 
have made with regard to the box,” she pursued quickly. “ I 
only wish to know when you saw my father again.” 


KITTY'S FA THER. 89 

I was compelled to admit that I saw him next on the last 
night of our pantomime season. 

What did he say to you then ” 

“ He was anxious about your welfare. He knew that man 
Strathsay was persecuting you. He wished that you should 
marry and leave the stage.” 

“ When did you see him again ? ” 

“ Last Monday.” 

“ That was my father, the man you went down on the race- 
course to see about staking my money.” 

“ Yes, Kitty. He had told me that if you needed money I 
was to let him know. I knew that if the comedy succeeded. 
Jack would be in a position to make you his wife, and when 
I told your father that he promised to let me have the money 
we needed the next day.” 

“ And that money he gave you with the box on Tuesday 
afternoon ? ” 

“ Yes ; he kept his word.” 

Her colorless lips trembled ; and suddenly she covered 
her white face with her hands and burst into tears. 

“ It was for my sake,” she sobbed. 

I went to comfort her if I could, but brusquely checking 
me, and dashing the tears impatiently from her eyes, she 
said : 

“ Where is he now, my father ? ” 

“ I cannot tell you — but ” 

“ But what ? ” 

He was in the theatre to-night.” 

“ At the theatre to-night ! And the death of Mr. Sherri- 
dan is already known. We must find him, uncle, and let 
him know.” 

She started to her feet, as if, in her desperation, she thought 
it possible to seek him : then she sank down again, faint 
with the sense of her impotency, as I asked how it was pos- 
sible for us to find him. 

“At least,” she said, as her courage revived, “you must 
go to Chester to-morrow and learn whether there is any 
hope, or whether there is anything that can be done to save 
him.” 

I promised I would go with Jack and attend the inquest, 
though I was hopeless of doing any good. In truth I felt 
miserably helpless, seeing what a poor hand I was at keep- 
ing a secret, and how much unnecessary pain I had inflicted 


90 


KITTY FATHER. 


on poor Kitty through my incapacity to make a vigorous 
resistance and silence her inquiries, and what mischief 
might arise from admitting even his daughter to the secret 
of Yorke’s crime. This last consideration impelled me to 
give her a word of caution. 

“ My dear,” said I, “ it’s clear to me that I have told 
you much more than your claim to information justified, and 
that I have made matters worse than I found them. I must 
warn you against falling into the same error. For your 
father’s sake you must not repeat a word I have told you to 
any living being.” 

“Is it likely that I should betray my own father } ” she 
asked, indignantly. 

“ Not willingly, I am sure. But it struck me that, with the 
best intentions in the world, you might confide in Jack, be- 
lieving that he could avert a catastrophe.” 

“Jack ! ” she exclaimed, with a start, as if under the shock 
of a new revelation. For a moment she looked at me in wild 
consternation, then, in a tremulous voice that scarcely rose 
above a whisper, she said : 

“ Tell Jack ! ” and dropping her face in her hands burst 
once more into tears, murmuring between the rising sobs, 
“ Never, never ! ” 

She would not be comforted. Rising with a despairing 
shake of the head, she left me, and went up to her room to 
grieve in solitude. 

I was up betimes the next morning, and having given half 
an hour to the time-table, I went upstairs and tapped at 
Kitty’s door. 

“ Shall I send you up a cup of tea, my dear ? ” I asked. 

“ No,” she replied. “ I am getting up ; I shall be down 
soon.” 

“ Don’t hurry on my account, dear. I can have break- 
fast by myself; ’’then, I added, after a pause, “ I find there’s 
a train from Chester brings me in at 6:37, so I shall be home 
in time to take you to the theatre.” 

“ If there is anything pressing you will telegraph, won’t 
you ? ” 

“ Of course, my dear.” I paused again, then said : “ When 
Jack comes I’ll tell him you have a headache, shall I ? ” 

“ No ; I will see him before you go,” she answered, 
gravely. 


KITTY^S FA THER, 


91 

Knowing she must have had^^ bad night, and still be suf- 
fering from mental agitation, it sfeemed to me advisable that 
she should avoid meeting him just now. In her place I should 
have been glad to get out of an embarrassing position on any 
pretext. Not she. Her pluck and spirit rose in proportion 
to the difficulties and perils of the situation. That was evi- 
dent in her meeting with Jack. Her composure and self- 
command astonished me. She spoke of my going with him 
to attend the inquest, as if it were merely to gratify our 
curiosity. Nothing in her manner could have revealed to the 
most keen observer that she entertained the terrible dread 
of that inquest throwing suspicion of murder upon her father. 
There was no fear of her betraying his secret. To save him 
she could cheat even the man she loved. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

THE INQUEST AND ATTENDANT EVENTS. 

When we arrived at Chester, Jack, after exacting a promise 
that I would meet him at the Albion at half-past twelve and 
take lunch with him, went off to St. Botolph’s, where he ex- 
pected to meet Mr. Cunningham, his grandfather’s solicitor, 
and I strolled down through the town. I found portraits 
of the late vicar exhibited in the windows of all the fancy 
shops. It was a strikingly handsome face, a little like Jack’s 
in certain features, but harder and more ascetic in expression. 
Outside the news-vendors’ show-bills of local newspapers 
announced in big type, “ The late Vicar of St. Botolph’s. 
Discovery of the body. Supposed murder. Latest particu- 
lars.” It surprised me to note how few people stopped to 
look at the portraits or read the announcements, which had 
such awful significance for me. 

At half-past twelve I went to the hotel. Jack was reading 
a newspaper in the smoking-room. He had failed to find 
Mr. Cunningham, but just as we were sitting down to lunch 
in the dining-room, the solicitor bustled in with apologies for 
not keeping the appointment, and for intruding upon us 
now. 

“ Will you join us t ” said Jack ; “ we may discuss business 
and a chop at the same time.” 


92 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


“ With the greatest pleasure, that is, if — er ” he dropped 

his voice so that I lost what followed. 

“ Oh, perfectly,” replied Jack, and turning to me he intro- 
duced us, “ my friend Mr. Holderness, Mr. Cunningham.” 

The lawyer smiled, shook hands with me, and said a word 
or two about the weather as he deposited his black bag on a 
side-table, and removed his gloves, while Jack ordered another 
cover for our table. 

“ Well, Mr. Sherridan,” said the solicitor, passing a silk 
handkerchief over his bald head, with a touch at his closely 
trimmed iron-gray whiskers, “ I have very little to report. 
We have made an exhaustive search — at it until two o’clock 
this morning, and have found no trace whatever of the sandal- 
wood box or its contents. Every box and drawer has been 
turned out ; I personally have examined all documents and 
papers, and therefore I am in a position to affirm that the 
notes are not in the vicarage now,” he added impressively, 
laying the tips of his fingers on the edge of the table, and 
leaning forward— “ nor the will either.^^ 

Jack, seemingly quite unconcerned by the latter particular, 
said, as he filled his guest’s glass, 

“ I suppose there’s no question about my grandfather hav- 
ing drawn the money .? ” 

“ We shall have the evidence of the banker at the inquest. 
There is no reason to doubt that he did draw five hundred 
pounds from the bank on the Saturday before his disappear- 
ance.” 

“ It is not likely that he paid it away in the interim ? ” 

“ We shall have evidence on that point also,” said the sol- 
icitor, with a deep creasing of his brows, “and very strong 
evidence, I should say, judging from the attitude of the wit- 
ness, wffien I ventured to question him on the subject this 
morning. The money was drawn to furnish a loan to Admi- 
ral Strong — which he denies, in the most emphatic manner, 
having received. There is certainly no receipt for the money 
among your grandfather’s papers ; while, on the other hand, 
there is a letter from the admiral asking him to hold the 
money until he returned from Ireland.” 

“ That seems conclusive,” observed Jack. 

“ The admiral, I may remark, is heavily in debt to the 
estate in consequence of previous loans. A most extraor- 
dinary friendship existed between Mr. Sherridan and the 
admiral. I say extraordinary, advisedly, for it would be 


KITTY^S FATHER. 


93 


difficult to find two men whose characteristics were more 
entirely at variance. The vicar’s life was devoted to the 
saving of men’s souls, the admiral’s sole object seems to be 
the destruction of their bodies. He is the inventor of a 
quick-firing gun, and on this invention he has squandered 
his own fortune and a certain portion of your grandfather’s 
also. The difference in the temperament of the two friends 
was scarcely less remarkable than the opposition of their 
vocations : one was frugal in his habits, sensitive, delicate 
and refined in his manner, whereas the other is apparently 
recklessly extravagant in his tastes, offensively rude and a 
perfect bear in his behavior.” . 

I smiled and nodded at the solicitor, who seemed to me a 
man of great penetration. He expressed precisely what I 
thought about the admiral. 

“ It is astounding,” I said. 

“ I don’t know,” said Jack, smiling. “ I think Robinson 
Crusoe would have gone mad on that island with any other 
companion than the man Friday. Assuredly there’s more to 
be got out of a friend whose views are entirely opposed to your 
own than can be hoped for from one who points out nothing 
which you have not already seen, and only tells you that 
which you might as well have told him.” 

“Your reasoning is very ^ood, sir,” said Mr. Cunningham, 
respectfully. Jack being his host and a client as well. “ But 
that is not the only explanation. Mr. Sherridan undoubtedly 
entertained a very deep affection for Miss Helen Strong, the 
admiral’s daughter. Had she been fatherless, he might 
have adopted her as his daughter : under the precluding 
conditions I am strongly disposed to believe that he intended 
making her his wife, or at least making her an offer of 
inarriage.” 

“ Why, that is more astonishing than his friendship for 
the admiral,” I ventured to observe. “ Miss Strong cannot 
be over six and twenty, I should say.” 

“And my grandfather was seventy-three,” , said Jack. 
“Nevertheless marriages of this kind are published often 
enough in the Times. It supports my theory/’ 

“Exactly, sir,” said Mr. Cunningham, and he added with a 
significant glance at me, “ I shall have something more to 
say to you on that subject.” 

“ You can speak without reserve, I have no secrets from 
Mr. Holderness.’^ , . 


94 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


“ Well, Mr. Sherridan, as it bears on the subject of dis- 
cussion before us, I may tell you now that your grandfather, 
under the irritation of your refusal to abandon the dramatic 
profession, wrote to me for the will he had placed in my 
hands some time before, with the purpose of destroying it. 
By that will he divided his estate between you and Miss 
Strong. A few days afterwards, he sent me the draft of a 
will which he proposed to substitute for the previous one. 
By the second will he left all his estate to Miss Strong. As 
he asked my friendly opinion of this will, I returned it to him 
telling him what I thought, namely, that it was unjust to you, 
and that I believed he would, on calmer reflection, see the 
advisability of letting the previous will stand until he was 
fully assured that you had forfeited all claim to his generous 
consideration.” 

“ Thank you very much,” said Jack, warmly. 

“ Well, sir, you see,” said the lawyer, with a little flush of 
color under Jack’s grateful recognition of the friendly serv- 
ice, “ I know nothing about you, but I do know something 
about the Rev. Mr. Crawley Shepherd, and knowing the 
kind of influence he would bring to bear on your grandfather, 

I concluded that you — er ” 

“ That I am not so black as he painted me.” 

“Just so. Mr. Shepherd is one of those narrow-minded 
persons who think to advance themselves by pulling others 
back. I have had proof of that in certain attempts he has 
made to create ill-feeling between Mr. Sherridan and Admiral 
Strong, and also to shake Mr. Sherridan’s confidence in me. 
Possibly he thought that by completely isolating your grand • 
father his own chance of inheriting a fortune would be 
greater.” 

“ Was my grandfather ignorant of his curate’s views ? ” 

“ No, he was not. It was he who discovered them and 
made them known to me. He spoke of his toadying secretary 
and curate with cynical contempt, and when I suggested, in 
drawing up the first will, that he should leave Mr. Shepherd 
a small legacy, he replied, ‘Not a penny. The rascal has 
feathered his nest at my expense already.’ ” 

“ I cannot understand how the vicar could employ a man 
whom he distrusted to that degree,” said I. 

“ I own it puzzled me,” said the lawyer, “but perhaps Mr. 
Sherridan may account for his grandfather’s choice of serv- 
ants by the same psychological theory which explains his 
choice of a friend ” 


KITTY^S FA THER. 


95 


“ Who knows the secret springs of another man’s actions ? ” 
asked Jack, with a shrug. “ We hardly know our own. Did I 
understand you, Mr. Cunningham, that the first will was 
sent to my grandfather ? ” 

“Yes, I sent it to him in a registered envelope about a 
Aveek before the date of his disappearance. The draft of the 
new will came to me two days after, and I returned it on the 
Friday of that week. He may have kept both the will and 
the draft for further consideration, or he may have destroyed 
one and kept the other — which^ it is impossible to tell, for 
neither is to be found. Unless he destroyed both, your grand- 
father’s last will was probably stolen with the notes and 
papers contained in the sandal-wood box. There seems to 
me not the remotest chance of the will being found ; and I 
need not tell you, Mr. Sherridan, that such being the case, 
you inherit the whole of your grandfather’s estate — some 
thirty or forty thousand pounds.” 

The prospect of Jack’s inheriting a fortune of this amount 
took away my breath, but he continued to eat and drink as if 
such a windfall came to him quite as a matter of course. 

“ Have you any notion how the thing was done ? ” he asked. 

“ Oh, I think there cannot be two opinions on that point. 
A couple of rascals — there must have been two — tramping 
to the town in the night before the races get into the garden 
with some more or less felonious intention, and see through 
an open window a studious old gentleman sitting alone in 
a well-furnished library. One goes behind his chair and 
quietly strangles him. The shock of such an attack would be 
enough to kill an old man affected with heart-disease. What 
is to be done with his body "i It occurs to them that they 
passed a well in coming through a yard. They carry him 
out and drop him down the well. They return to the house 
and look about the room. The desk would be the first thing 
a thief would turn to. In that they find a box with a thick 
packet of bank-notes and other papers in it. The prize is 
sufficient to satisfy their cupidity ; they take the box, lock 
up the desk, remove the key, and leave the rest as they find 
it.” 

“ I suppose that’s how it came about ; but,” Jack said 
with a demurring pause, “they were no ordinary pilfering 
marauders who did the thing. The common brutal mur- 
derer would never have had the self-restraint to leave that 
watch on the table. That seems to me a stroke of genius. 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


96 

It completely averts suspicion of robbery. Throwing the 
vicar’s light overcoat down the well is another evidence of 
foresight and calculation which points rather to a premedi- 
tated crime by a man of considerable intelligence. What do 
you think, Holderness ? ” 

“ But if there were two ? ” I remonstrated feebly, com- 
pletely upset by the evidence which already seemed to single 
out Kitty’s father as the culprit. 

“ It’s not so clear to me that there were two,” said Jack, 
with the calm reasoning of his confounded philosophy. “ It 
requires no great force to garotte an old man of seventy ; 
and a man of ordinary physical strength could carry the spare 
body over his shoulder from the house to the yard.” 

If you had stuck to the bar, Mr. Sherridan, you would 
have made yourself famous. Your conclusions are perfectly 
just,” said Mr. Cunningham. “ I agree that the crime may 
have been committed by one man and not two, and that he 
was not an ordinary pilferer ; but you must allow that 
amongst the sharpers and rascals that attend race meetings 
there are many with a misapplied intelligence of a very high 
order. However,” he added, raising his glass, “ we may be 
certain of one thing, that intelligent criminal has destroyed 
the sandal-wood box and all it contained except the notes.” 

Had he known what I knew his conviction would have 
been strengthened tenfold. 

Bob Yorke, who had commited the crime to secure the 
marriage of his daughter, was not likely to leave in existence 
a will depriving her husband of thirty thousand pounds. 

We walked up the hill to St. Botolph’s, and went into the 
vestry room in which the inquest was to be held. Mr. Cun- 
ningham and Jack passed into the part reserved for the jury 
and witnesses ; and I looked about for a seat at the other 
end of the room, which was open to the public. It was al- 
ready closely filled with persons who had come from curios- 
ity to watch the proceedings ; but as I cast my eye round for 
a vacant place I caught sight of one who had come there from 
a stronger motive ; and my legs shook under me with terror 
as I saw him. Kitty’s father was there, at the back, lean- 
ing against the wall, with the bundle under his arm which con- 
tained that sandal-wood box which might bring him to the 
gallows. 


JCITTVS FA THER, 


97 


CHAPTER XV. 

THE ADMIRAL STIRS ME UP. 

What spirit of bravado or love of danger had brought 
Yorke into the court where inquiry was being made into the 
crime he had committed with the very proof of his guilt in 
his hands ! I know that a desire for fame, self-aggrandize- 
ment, notoriety, will tempt men into expeditions which pre- 
sent no allurement save the peril of death ; but in this case I 
saw no excusable ambition, nothing but reckless foolhardi- 
ness or insanity. 

I scanned the faces in the room with a fearful apprehension 
of finding some keen eye upon him ; among the witnesses 
whose evidence was yet to be given there might be one — a 
servant, a neighbor, a wayfarer, who had seen him in the 
neighborhood or even in the vicarage grounds on the morn- 
ing of the murder, and who now recognizing him, might 
spring up, and pointing him out, cry, “ That is the man ! ” 

I felt that I must implore him, for Kitty’s sake, to withdraw 
while he was yet unnoticed ; but he was too far removed from 
me and the intervening throng too closely packed for me to 
approach him without causing observation, and attracting at- 
tention ; and as I dared not encounter this risk, I stood still, 
quaking with fear and thinking of poor Kitty with sickening 
anxiety. In this state of mind I was incapable of following 
the proceedings dosely or fixing the incidents distinctly in 
my mind. I know that the coroner and jury left the hall to 
view the body, and when they came back a number of wit- 
nesses were examined. I think it was the doctor who first 
gave evidence. The body, he said, was too far decomposed 
to permit of any certain conclusion as to the cause of death. 
There was a distinct abrasion of the skin upon the throat 
which might have been produced either by a cord employed 
in strangulation, or by the chain over the well being attached 
after death to lower the body into the well. 

After the doctor, a number of witnesses were called — the 
Rev. Mr. Shepherd, Admiral Strong, police, servants and 
others whose names and faces were unknown to me, and as 

7 


JCITTY^S FA THER. 


98 

each of the latter took oath, a fresh tremor ran through me, 
and my eyes involuntarily turned towards Kitty’s father, to 
see if his countenance betrayed any feeling of apprehension. 
He stood there against the wall in full view of the court, the 
bundle under his arm, and not a muscle of his face moved. 
Ah ! I would have given something to have had his phlegm. 
But happily, all these witnesses told nothing that was not 
already known : no one had seen a trespasser in the vicarage 
grounds, either before or after the event. Then the coroner, 
addressing the jury, summoned up the evidence and painted 
out that their duty was to decide according to their belief, by 
what means the deceased had come to his end ; and this duty 
was speedily discharged, for, it being impossible to believe 
that the vicar had fallen into the well by accident or com- 
mitted suicide, the only conclusion left them was that he had 
been murdered by some, person or persons unknown. When 
the verdict had been given, there was a general hum of voices 
as the public rose and moved towards the door, and in this 
movement I lost sight of Kitty’s father; and though I got 
out as quickly as possible and waited at the door until the 
last of the crowd came out, I saw him no more. His sudden 
disappearance seemed quite in keeping with his mysterious 
character. 

Jack, quitting the hall by the door at the other end of the 
building, reserved from the court, came to me and said : 

“I’m afraid you will have to return to Birmingham with- 
out me, Holderness. There’s a lot to be done yet. I may 
have to stay here for two or three days, and go to London 
after. Kitty will know that I shall join you again as soon as 
it is possible.” 

We shook hands and parted. I was not .displeased to have 
a few hours to myself, for I had to settle what I should say 
to Kitty on my return, and construct some fiction which should 
set the poor girl’s mind at rest ; and this was a task of no 
little difficulty for a man whose inventive faculty is not re- 
markable for fertility. And happily, by dint of downright 
perseverance, I managed by the time I reached Birmingham, 
to concoct a theory in support of her father’s innocence, which 
appeared so plausible, that I almost cheated myself into the 
belief that it was a true explanation. 

“ Well, my dear,” said I, with the most cheerful tone I 
could assume, when Kitty opened the door to me, “ the in- 
quest was all over by four o’clock, and the jury have returned 


A'l TTY'S FATHER. 


99 


a verdict of murder against some person or persons unknown,’’ 

This news did not seem to cheer her much ; and the ex- 
pression of pain and anxiety in her beautiful dark eyes re- 
maining unchanged, I hastened to add as I closed the parlor 
door, 

“ But it’s the luckiest thing in the world I went there, for 
it knocks on the head any doubt we may have had about your 
father’s complicity in the crime.” 

These words also were too equivocal, apparently, to be quite 
reassuring. She knitted her brows, as if trying to see where 
the advantage came in, still looking into my eyes with strained 
eagerness. 

“First of all,” I continued, “ I had lunch with Mr, Cun- 
ningham, an unusually keen lawyer ; and he laid it down as 
beyond doubt, that the crime was committed by two rascals 
(and not one) tramping to Chester for the races, and this 
seemed to be the opinion of the coroner, judging from his 
remarks.” 

“ There was a man with my father on the race-course on 
Monday — a horrible looking fellow,” Kitty observed. 

“ That’s nothing to do with it, my dear,” said I, a little 
testily ; “ what convinces me that your father had no hand in 
the crime, is that he was there in the court to-day.” 

“ He there to-day !” she exclaimed. 

“Yes,” said I, triumphantly, “ and he made no attempt to 
conceal himself. He stood there against the wall where all 
the court could see him. How would he have dared to do 
that if he had been guilty ? Would he have been mad enough 
to court discovery by some of those witnesses who might have 
seen the murderer in the grounds on Monday night ? ” : 

“ It seems impossible,” she cried. Clasping her hands as if 
in gratitude to heaven. 

“ And what’s more, he had the bundle under his arm in 
which he put the sandal-wood box yesterday morning.” 

“ But why was he there ? ” she asked — hope now twinkling 
in her eyes, moistened with a tear of joy. 

“ I’m coming to that directly. Don’t hurry me. If we find 
that our suspicions were unjust, the least we can do in the 
way of reparation is to believe the story your father told me. 
He said that the money was what he had put by for you, and 
drawn from the bank, and that the box had fallen into his 
hands by a curious accident. What accident it wasj he did 
not tell me, but isn’t it reasonable to suppose that some 


lOO 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


chance acquaintance among the vagabond crew inside the 
race-course offered it to him for a trifle, and that he, recog- 
nizing the artistic value of it, bought it on the spot ? ” 

“ To be sure, dear,” faltered Kitty, the tears gathering 
afresh in her eyes, with this happy discovery. 

“ And don’t you see the villainy of the man who sold him 
the box, who knew that suspicion must fall upon a man of 
doubtful character found with the box in his possession ? ” 

“ Why, certainly. Have not we been led away by that 
fact, we who should have put the most generous construction 
upon it ?” 

“ Of course!” replied I, thumping the table. To tell the 
truth I was scarcely less excited and carried away than Kitty 
was — moved by my own fiction like the actor who sheds 
real tears in a part of his own creation. “ And now we come 
to the reason of his being at the inquest. He went there on 
the chance of finding, among the witnesses summoned to 
attend, the villain who had sold him the box, prepared, you 
may be sure, if he recognized the man, to step forward and 
say, ‘ That rascal sold me this box ! 

This argument seemed less conclusive to Kitty’s mind. 

“ Did he give up the box ? ” she asked. 

No, my dear ; that would certainly have got him into 
trouble. How could he prove that it had been sold to him ? 
Remember his past life would not bear scrutiny^ — and again^ 
inquiry into his life would have involved the revelation of all 
he most earnestly wishes to keep secret. It might even up- 
set your marriage with Jack, which your father has the great- 
est desire in the world to see consummated.” 

I was a fool to say that, I wished the words unsaid the 
moment they were out of my lips, for I saw a shadow fall on 
Kitty’s face at once. She sat down quietly with trouble in 
her eyes, and sat silently twining and untwining her fingers, 
her head bowed over her lap. 

“ The great thing is,” said I, “ that we can think well of 
your father now.” 

“ Yes, that is the great thing,” she acquiesced, raising her 
head. 

“ 1 shouldn’t have seen him in the court to-day if he had 
been guilty — that’s certain. And another thing,” said I, a 
new light breaking in on me, “ it isn’t likely that if he had 
taken the box he would have been fool enough to give it to 
you. That is certain.” 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


lOI 


“ Yes, that is certain,” she agreed. “ Thank God, we have 
not that trouble to bear.” 

She spoke with a certain want of elasticity, as if all the 
trouble were not removed from her heart ; she said not a 
word to me of the grief that remained. Nor did she allow 
herself to brood over this secret trouble long, for after a few 
minutes of silent reflection she sprang up and busied herself 
in preparing tea for me — the hour drawing near when we 
must start olf for the theatre. 

“ I don’t think we shall see Jack for some days,” said I, 
as she bustled about. “ There is a great deal of business to 
be done in winding up his grandfather’s affairs.” 

“ And then he has friends to see,” she said, without show- 
ing surprise at the announcement ; “ he has neglected them 
so long to be with us.” 

“ Aye, and he is likely to have more friends than ever now; 
for it seems he will inherit all his grandfather’s estate, thirty 
thousand pounds ! Think of that. Why, you will keep your 
carriage.” 

She turned to fill the teapot without replying. 

“ Did you speak to my father t ” she asked presently. 

“No; he was gone before I could reach the door of the 
vestry room.” 

“ When you do see him, will you tell him that I know all, 
and want to see him very much ? ” 

“ I told her that I did not see how I could do that, as I 
had promised that I would not reveal his existence to her. 
“ You must remember, dear,” said I, “ that you forced me 
unwillingly to confess what I knew.” 

She sighed. That was all. We had no time for further 
discussion then, and when we came from the theatre at night, 
she was so tired and exhausted by the mental strain of the 
day that she scarcely opened her lips, and went to bed leav- 
ing her supper almost untasted. 

For my own part, I felt wonderfully relieved. For the 
more I thought about the crime at the vicarage, the more con- 
vinced I became that the theory which I had invented with 
no other object than to allay Kitty’s fear, was actually the 
true explanation of her father’s connection with it. Welsher, 
cardsharper, adventurer, Yorke might be any of these, so 
long as he was innocent of the crime of murder and robbery. 

Kitty received letters from Jack — one a day, I should say; 
but I only saw the outside of them. As soon as Kitty, ever 


102 


KITTY^S FA THER. 


looking out for the postman, possessed herself of one, she 
rushed up to her room to read it there without interruption. 
But she gave me scraps of news from them ; Wednesday, 
Thursday and Friday he wrote from Chester, but on Saturday 
he was in London. Many new names were mentioned, show- 
ing, as we expected, that friends were rallying round him now 
that he was in the stream of good fortune. 

“ Ha, ha ! ” said I ; “ the more friends the better. They 
are a sign of good times coming, like the swallows in spring. 
But he doesn’t forget us, Kitty. Jack’s heart is true.” 

We both did our best to be cheerful, but it called for an 
effort on both sides. For, independent of other considera- 
tions, the absence of Jack, whose cheerful presence, kindly 
attentions, and vivacious conversation had brightened our 
lives constantly during the past week, made the days seem 
uncommonly long and dreary. Nothing worthy of note 
occurred during the rest of the week, and on the Monday fol- 
lowing we were at Stafford. The advance agent had secured 
us a respectable-looking lodging in Cavendish Street, and we 
played “ The Blue-stocking ” to a fairly good house on Mon- 
day night. Tuesday morning, Kitty having made my favorite 
dish, a beefsteak pudding, we went out for a walk round the 
town, which was less enjoyable than it might have been, 
because, we learnt, it was salting day at one of the big pot- 
teries, and the acrid fumes that blew down and filled the 
streets were enough to choke a stranger to the place. A 
little before one we returned to Cavendish Street, where, on 
opening the door, our landlady told us a gentleman was wait- 
ing to see us. With the joyful belief that Jack had run down 
to take us by surprise, I opened the sitting-room door, and 
there found, to my surprise and disgust, that our visitor was 
Admiral Strong. He was sitting by the open window that 
looked on to the courtyard at the back of the house, inhaling 
the brown smoke that poured down from an adjacent kiln 
with evident satisfaction — indeed, he told us that he con- 
sidered the atmosphere only second to the air of the fighting 
deck of an old liner after a grand salute. His appearance 
was not improved by the mourning suit he now wore, which 
made him look shorter, stouter in the lower parts, and redder 
in the face than ever. But I was forced to admire the shining 
white curls that clustered over his head, and I was not less 
delighted to observe that his manners were far more agree- 
able than I had found them at our previous meeting ; but this 


KITTY'S FA THER, 


103 


change, I discovered later, was entirely due to the presence 
of Kitty, whom he addressed in a tone of courteous defer- 
ence, tempered with a curious mingling of old-fashioned gal- 
lantry and fatherly gentleness. 

“ My dear young lady,” said he ; “I have seen you play 
on the stage, and need scarcely apologize for taking the first 
opportunity of improving my acquaintance with you. Where 
there is honey, there will flies arise ; and though, to be sure, 
there may be buzzing around you some far handsomer and 
more attractive than I, I’ll answer for it you shall find none 
with a more sincere admiration for your sweet, charming 
person and elegant accomplishments. I’ve one daughter who 
is the joy of my life; but, if I’d the pick of the world, I’d 
not pass you in the choice of a second.” 

With much amusement twinkling in her eye, Kitty made 
him a graceful little curtsey in acknowledgment of these com- 
pliments, and then, her mirth provoked by the oddness of the 
situation, for as yet I had not opened my lips to introduce 
him, overflowing in a little ripple of laughter, she said, with 
an apt echo of his old-world style : 

“ Indeed, sir, there’s only one thing more you can tell me 
to add to my obligation, and that is, the name and quality of 
the gentleman I have the honor to address.” 

“ Why, surely your uncle has given you some description 
of one Admiral Strong 1 ” 

“ Certainly he has,” said the artful puss, who, I feel sure, 
had recognized him at the first glance. “ But you must 
excuse me if I failed to recognize the original from the por- 
trait.” 

“That’s no fault of yours. I’ll warrant, my dear; though 
the likeness wasn’t lost by flattery. I’ll answer for it. You 
didn’t spare your colors neither, did you, sir .? ’’ continued he, 
turning to me ; “ and you find it easier to let your tongue go 
behind a man’s back than before his face, don’t you? Well, 
well,” he added, turning to Kitty, with a more amiable ex- 
pression, “we all have our shortcomings, and if your uncle 
can’t see any difference between an honest old man and a 
bucket of tar, he’s more to be pitied than blamed.” 

“ Pray, sir,” said I, nettled by this treatment, “will you tell 
me the object of the call with which you have honored us ? ” 

“ Well, you may take it I have not called for the pleasure 
of seeing you,” he replied ; and, turning again to Kitty, con- 
tinued : “ The fact is, I saw by the papers that you were 


104 


KITTY^S FATHER. 


playing in Stafford, and, having got your address from the 
box-office of the theatre, I came here expecting to find Mr. 
Jack Sherridan, who left Chester on Saturday.” 

“ Mr. Sherridan is in London.” 

“ In London ! I’m sorry to hear it, though you leave me . 
no reason to repent my journey. Miss Yorke. I shall have to 
tell him my mind in a letter, though it’s a style of communi- 
cation as little to my taste as giving orders in French with 
breakers ahead and a gale astern. I w^anted to have it out 
with him, and speak my mind face to face.” 

His attitude was so combative, his expression so menacing, 
that Kitty’s face grew grave with apprehension. 

“ He sent his solicitor to me ; and I wager you can’t guess 
what for, my dear.” 

Kitty shook her head in silent anxiety. 

“Then I’ll tell you. This solicitor, you must understand, 
was one of your mealy-mouthed sort. Now, I’m not.” 

As he looked at me I nodded acquiescence. 

“ Tm a man of practical common-sense. There’s not a 
particle of sentiment in my nature — none of your fine feelings 
or nonsense of any sort.” 

As he still had his eye fixed on me, I again nodded to ex- 
press my complete agreement with this statement. 

“ Well, the lawyer begins in this style. ‘ Sir,’ says he, 

‘ My client, Mr. John Sherridan, having heard that it was 
his grandfather’s intention to advance you the sum of five 
hundred pounds, has sent me to inquire if you have any 
present necessity for the loan.’ 

“Naturally, you know, I asked what the deuce it mattered 
to Mr. Jack Sherridan or anyone else, what my necessities 
were, to which the lawyer replied that although his client was 
the last man in the world to occupy himself with another 
gentleman’s private affairs, or occupy himself with a business 
that did not concern liim, he nevertheless felt that in this case 
he might venture to let me know that if I had need of money, 
I was at liberty to draw upon him for the amount required. 
Then he added this astounding piece of information, that in 
the absence of a will it was Mr. Jack Sherridan’s intention 
to dispose of his grandfather’s estate in accordance with the 
purpose which he believed my old friend would have carried 
out had he lived ; in short, that as soon as the affairs were 
wound up he should make over half of his inheritance to me ! 
There, now, what do you think of that ? ” 


KITTY^S FA THER. 


lOS 

“ What ! ” I exclaimed, “ he hands you over fifteen thousand 
pounds of his fortune ? ” 

“ Yes,” answered the admiral. “ And wfith less reluctance 
than you might hand over fifteen pence to satisfy a conscien- 
tious scruple. Ah ! ” he added, turning to Kitty, whose face 
was radiant with joy and pride, “you are delighted. You’d 
rather have a generous lover than all the money in the world, 
eh ? ” He took her hand and shook it w'armly. 

Just at that moment our landlady entered the room with 
the tray of dinner things. 

“ Presently,” I said to her, with a sign to leave the room 
and take the tray with her. 

“ No, lay your cloth, my good woman,” said the admiral, 
and turning to me, he added, “if that was a hint for me to' 
cut my visit short, you’ve wasted your ingenuity, for I shan’t 
take the hint.” 

“ As we have nothing but a beefsteak pudding — ” I began 
apologetically. 

“ A beefsteak pudding, why that’s the best dish in the 
world.” 

“ Well,” said I, “ I can answer for it, no pudding could be 
better than Kitty makes.” 

“Aye, I’m sure of that; but if there were nothing but a 
crust of bread I’d stay to share it for the sake of the company ; 
and if you would make me quite at my ease. Miss Kitty, do 
remove your bonnet.” 

Kitty left us to go to her room, and the admiral, squar- 
ing his chair to face me, said : 

“ Now, Mr. Fiddlesticks, let us understand each other. It 
seems to me, damme ! for all your cursed carefulness, that 
you’re not best pleased with this division of property.” 

“ I must admit it took me by surprise,” said I. 

“ Oh, it surprised you to find th^t Jack Sherridan’s too 
honest to take advantage of an accident and stick to an estate 
that his grandfather intended to divide, eh ? — Why ? ” 

“ Why ! ” I replied warmly, goaded beyond endurance by 
his sarcasms and aggressive manners, “ Why ? Because from 
what the lawyer told me you’ve drained the estate pretty 
freely already with loans on account of your precious sharp- 
shooting gun, which is likely never to return a farthing of 
the hundreds you’ve squandered on it; and because Jack has 
a legal and moral right to the fortune, and you have none.” 

“ Spoken like a man, begad ! ” cried the admiral in delight. 


o6 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


seizing my hand and nearly smashing it in a hearty grip. 
“ You’ve got a bit of spirit in you after all. It only wants 
rousing up ; and damme, if you’ll only come and stay a week 
or two with me, I’ll lay my life we shall be the best friends 
in the world after a dozen or two of bouts like this. You’re 
in the right, too. I haven’t any claim to the estate. As to 
my debts, they’ll have to be wiped out, for I’m a ruined man, 
and it’s no good flogging a dead horse ; but as to taking half 
that estate, that’s a ship of another build, and I’ll see Mr. Jack 
damned, before I take a penny of his money. And that’s 
what I came here to tell him.” 

And this is the man, thought I, who boasts of having no 
fine feelings. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

KITTY FIGHTS A HARD FIGHT — AND CONQUERS. 

The admiral said no more on this subject during dinner ; 
indeed he seemed unable to think of anything but the beef- 
steak pudding he was eating (which he protested was the 
most delicious dish he had tasted since he was a boy in the 
thirties) and the decadence of the times which substituted 
indigestible Frenchified messes for wholesome English cook- 
ery and bad musicians for good housewives, to the end that 
it was now as difficult to get a dish fit to eat, or find a lass who 
at a pinch could manage a household, as it was to single out 
a single captain in the navy who could sail his iron ship into 
port if the boilers of his pestilential engines sprang a leak. 
But before leaving he referred again to the ruin of his for- 
tunes, and furnished me, and doubtless Kitty also, with food 
for secret rumination when he was gone. 

“ I knew what I had to expect last Tuesday,” said he, “ but 
I’m not the sort of man to go down to the bottom with my 
hands in my pockets. As soon as the inquest was over I 
tackled the newspaper reporters and told ’em it was my in- 
tention to give a thousand pounds for the lost will, and I 
begged them to insert an advertisement to that effect in all 
the papers they supplied with a report of the case. For you 
see, I argued it this way : if the man who did this murder is 
the scheming cold-blooded, calculating rascal he seems to be 
by the evidence given to-day, he’s not likely to destroy any- 


KITTY^S FA THER, 


107 


thing that may bring him in money ; and if he could murder 
a man for five hundred pounds, it stands to reason he’d give 
up the will for a thousand. What is more, wherever the 
criminal may have hid himself he’d find means to get a 
paper reporting the inquest to know how the verdict went, 
and there he’d find this offer of a reward. I made sure I 
should get a letter from the scoundrel, but — here’s a week 
gone, and though the reporters put in a paragraph as I asked 
’em, and I’ve had that advertisement in half a dozen papers 
every day, I haven’t received a single line respecting it from 
anyone.” 

“ There is still hope,” said L 

“ Aye,” he replied, “ but hope won’t save a man from 
sinking,” adding in my ear, “ as you know well enough, Mr. 
Cheerful, and be d d to you ! ” 

The admiral’s conclusions seemed to me perfectly just, and 
the fact that no response had been made to his announcement 
pointed unmistakably to the fact that Kitty’s father had the 
will. Kitty’s silence and the wistful, pensive and sad expres- 
sion in her face showed me but too clearly that she shared 
my renewed suspicion. We could only hope that the admi- 
ral’s advertisement might yet be answered — how sincerely he 
himself little imagined. 

Jack came to Stafford the same evening. In the middle of 
the third act I saw him standing in the wings taking off his 
gloves and regarding Kitty, who was then on the stage. At 
that distance I could see the happy glow of love and admira- 
tion in his face. When I went up from the orchestra after 
the fall of the curtain I found them standing together by the 
back-cloth. Seeing me, Kitty drew her hand from his and 
ran to the dressing-room. There was trouble and perplexity 
in Jack’s face as he turned to meet me : the first words he 
spoke were ; 

“ What is the matter, Holderness ? ” 

“ Nothing,” I answered, stammering perhaps with a quick 
presentiment of evil. 

“ Be candid with me, for God’s sake,” he said piteously. 

“ Upon my word I don’t understand what you mean. Jack,” 
I replied. 

“ Kitty’s changed. She’s not the same. Have I said any- 
thing in my letters to hurt her ? — does she feel that I have 
neglected her ? ” 

“ Not a bit ; she’s too sensible for that. We knew you 


KITTY^S FA THER. 


io8 

would come as soon as you could get away ; and as for your 
letters, if you had seen her seize the one that came this 
morning jou ” 

“ Perhaps I ought to have told her that I might be able to 
get away to-night.” 

“ No, no ; I'm sure she cannot be so foolish as to have 
taken umbrage at a trifle. You know how reasonable and 
generous she is in judgment. She may be a little bit upset 
though, for we’ve had a visitor to-day,” and then I told him 
of the admiral’s visit to us. But he could find nothing in 
that to account for the marked change in her manner. 

Yet it must be so,” he said. “ Perhaps I expected too 
much.” Then as Kitty appeared in the distance, he added, 
“ not a word of this to her.” 

She joined us with a light step and a smile ; but I could 
see that her gaiety was forced : and there was constraint in 
her manner as she took Jack’s offered arm when we left the 
theatre. And now jack proved himself a better actor than 
she, for he chatted brightly all the way home, and nothing in 
his behavior betrayed his secret misgivings, whereas Kitty’s 
mirth sounded to me almost hysterical. I have reason to 
believe from subsequent events, that a terrible conflict be- 
tween love and honor had been swaying her destiny, and that 
at this time the presence of the man she loved better than all 
the world taxed her strength of principle to the very utmost. 
Indeed 1 think that in the end (it was just before we reached 
our lodgings) her strength gave way and she abandoned her- 
self to the guidance of her heart, for there was a sudden 
change in her demeanor, as though she had overthrown all 
self-restraint, and as I closed the street-door she threw her 
arms round Jack’s neck and laid her cheek to his, her eyes 
closing in an ecstasy of passion. 

At table she was strangely excited, her cheek was flushed 
with color ; the pupils of her eyes were so dilated that the 
eyes themselves seemed quite black ; she never looked more 
bewitching, nor talked more brilliantly. And she carried us 
away with her so completely that I forget her previous con- 
straint and reserve. Then Just after supper another change 
came. At some observation of Jack’s — I did not notice 
what it was — she ceased to laugh ; I saw her looking at Jack’s 
averted face with an expression of shame and suffering in 
her eyes and on her lips, and the color had left her cheek. 

I thought that this would be a proper time to go and smoke 


KITTY FATHER. 


109 

a quiet pipe outside the house and leave them together. 
“ Jack will bring back her smiles,” said I to myself, as I 
quietly stepped out of the room, drawing the door to noise- 
lessly after me. But before I had got the pipe out of my 
overcoat pocket, Kitty came out to me and said in a low 
tone full of entreaty, as she pressed my hand between her 
own moist, cold palms : 

“ Come back, uncle. Smoke your pipe indoors. For 
Heaven’s sake do not leave me now,” 

I followed her back into the sitting-room, much disturbed 
in my mind by this fervent appeal. Jack was lighting a spill 
at the lamp. 

“ Oh, Kitty,” said he, cheerfully, “ there’s one thing I 
haven’t told you. I got clear of the lawyers one afternoon, 
and ran down to Sevenoaks to look at the most charming 
little snuggery you can imagine — an old mill-house on a 
trout stream, the quaintest, prettiest, jolliest little old-world 
place ! I should have taken it on the spot, only I thought 
you ought to see it first, and consider whether you would 
like it for a summer-home.” 

“ A home for me ! ” she exclaimed. “Why, we can’t stay 
in a lodging more than a week or so at a time.” 

“Oh, of course you can’t now that you’re a strolling 
player.” 

“ I think,” she said slowly, looking down at the floor, “ I 
think I shall never be anything else than a strolling player.” 

He turned— the lighted spill half-way to his pipe, and 
after regarding her for a moment in awed silence, he said : 

“ But, surely, dear, you will leave the stage when you 
marry.” 

“ I don’t know,” she replied in a firm, low tone; then, her 
voice faltering, she added, “ Perhaps, I shall never marry.” 

We looked at her, Jack and I, in mute dismay, amazement 
paralyzing us. 


no 


KITTY'S FATHER, 


CHAPTER XVII. 

OUR GREAT TROUBLE. 

Jack threw aside the light and laid down his cigar, look- 
ing at Kitty incredulously. The pain in her pale face for- 
bade the supposition that she was jesting. He sat down by 
her side and said with gentle earnestness : 

“ You do not mean what you said — there is some misunder- 
standing.’’ 

“ No, indeed, no. There is no misunderstanding now. 
See, I am quite calm. The little fit of madness is past, ana 
I am ashamed to have lost my head so. In sober earnest- 
ness I say again — I shall never be anything but a player. 
Think,*’ she continued, raising her eyes appealingly to Jack, 
‘‘ I have been on the boards ever since I was a child. You 
tried to keep me off, didn’t you, uncle ? But it was no use 
— I would be a player — and a player I must be always.” 

“ That doesn’t affect the greater question, Kitty,” said 
Jack in remonstrance. 

“ Oh, yes, it does, Jack. Your wife must not be an actress, 
and I must be. Movement, excitement, flattery, applause 
are all in all to me. I could not live without them.” 

“ If the stage is so dear to you, I will not take you away 
from it. You shall still play and yet be my wife.” 

“ That is impossible. You would not let your wife travel 
from town to town.” 

“ I will get you a fixed engagement in London ; or if you 
must travel I will travel too,” he said ; and then, Kitty shak- 
ing her head, he continued, “ You did not think it impossible 
a week ago.” 

“ No, for then you were a poor author with so little to hope 
for, that had the play failed you might have enlisted as a com- 
mon soldier for mere subsistence. Then it was possible that 
we might lead a wandering life, living by our wits, taking 
good luck and ill as it came. But that is all changed now. 
You are a man of fortune.” 

“ The greatest fortune in the world is worth nothing to me 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


Ill 


save as a means of procuring happiness. Love is worth 
more than money, Kitty, for money cannot buy it. I abandon 
everything for love and you.” 

“ You cannot do that,” she protested despairingly — “ you 
have duties — friends.” 

“ Friends,” he interrupted. “ I have none but those I 
found in adversity. Are they worth the name who turned 
their backs on me when I showed them my position and im- 
plored the loan of a few pounds.” 

“ But you will find other friends. A man must have the 
society of other men like myself in means and tastes, and ed- 
ucation. I should be awkward and ill at ease in the society 
of those who live in a higher circle. A man may be forgiven 
for marrying an actress ; but the actress — who will accept 
her as a friend ? The best of us are only tolerated for the 
amusement we give. There is no real friendship between 
society and us Bohemians.” 

“ Who has put these notions into your head ?” Jack asked. 

You, Jack. Your play is a satire upon the folly of the 
husband who tries to make a place for his uneducated wife 
in society by pretending that she is a bluestocking, and attrib- 
uting her solecisms to the eccentricity of genius. And if I 
did not see the moral at first, it was because I was too happy 
to think.” 

“ And you will let the moral of a farce mar the happiness of 
a lifetime ? ” 

“ No, Jack; but it shall spare us the unhappiness of a life- 
time. We have known each other only a few weeks, but years 
and years are before us. Our hearts will not break ; in a little 
while we shall smile again, and perhaps one day we shall 
almost forget each other. That will be better than the misery 
which must come from an unequal marriage. We cannot be 
always as — as we have been. Jack. There must come a time 
in the lives of all married people when they need new ideas, 
new friends, fresh departures ; and then if they are not quite 
on the same level the husband goes one way and the wife an- 
other, and they no longer love each other and ” 

“Stop, Kitty, for Heaven’s sake stop!” cried Jack, inter- 
rupting her, “ nothing in my fortunes has changed so much as 
you. These thoughts and feelings are not yours. You could 
not have spoken like this a week ago. The advantages you 
credit me with are no greater now then they were then with 
the exception of some pecuniary gain, so that it comes to this 


I 12 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


— you refuse to marry me because accident has made me a 
little richer than I was when I asked you to be my wife. But 
the same accident may make me poor again. You rejoiced 
at the prospect of my play enriching us ; and yet, to be con- 
sistent, you should have raised the same objections you urge 
now — indeed, to be logical, you should have stipulated upon 
your husband remaining poor.’’ 

Kitty, dropping her head, admitted that she had been to 
blame for not considering fully the consequences involved in 
accepting his offer ; but against this. Jack protested vigorously : 

“ You were right then,” he said, “ you are wrong now. 
Your heart cannot mislead you ; it is your reason that is at 
fault. If your heart bade you refuse me, if I thought that 
you ceased to love me, I should accept your refusal without 
remonstrance. But I cannot believe that, for you have given 
me proof within this hour that you love me still.” 

She covered her face with her hands, but the hot blood was 
visible mounting to her little ear. 

“ It is not a thing to be ashamed of, Kitty dear,” he said 
quietly. 

“ It is, it is,” she murmured, “ knowing as I did that I 
ought not to be your wife.” 

“ But your heart told you that you should be my wife, and 
you yielded to its better voice.” 

“ I would have written to you a week ago, but I thought it 
better to see you and face the difficulty.” 

“ Assuredly a letter would not have removed it. If you 
had told me all — ten times as much as you have said now — I 
should still have demanded a better explanation. You give 
me the right to demand it when you show me that your re- 
fusal is not due to any failing of affection and love. The 
reasons you give are so contradictory that I cannot believe 
you really mean what you have said.” 

“ I do mean what I say,” she said, with renewed energy. 
“ Indeed, indeed, I cannot be your wife.” 

“ Then you force me to conclude that there is some other 
reason for your refusal. What is it ? I must find that, out 
..before I give up the dearest hope of my life.” 

The tone of firm resolution in which he spoke terrified me, 
for I said to myself that if a man of his intelligence and pene- 
tration persisted in seeking the true cause of Kitty’s refusal 
it would not belong before her father’s crime was discovered ; 
and I foresaw that Kitty herself would be forced to divulge 


KITTY'S TATIIER. 


”3 


the secret. She too, with the evidence of her own failing res- 
olution at hand, must have perceived the danger of provok- 
ing him to close inquiry. She turned to him with entreaty 
in her poor face and trembling voice and said : 

“ I beg you to believe me. I have given you the only ex- 
planation I can.” 

“Then if I am to believe that,” said he, springing to his 
feet, “ and that only, the one obstacle that stands between us 
shall quickly be removed. I will renounce my fortune, I will 
be still the poor author you promised to marry — aye, if need 
be. I’ll go back still further and join the ranks, rather than 
lose you for my wife.” 

Again passionate love and admiration got the better of 
Kitty’s little head in this terrible unequal struggle, and a de- 
lirious joy seemed to stream from her eyes as she looked at 
her hero lover; and then, as if bewildered by the turbulent 
thoughts that shot madly across her mind, she looked from 
him round the room with the wild expression of a hunted 
creature seeking some place of refuge. At that moment her 
glance fell upon me, and I know not what look in my face re- 
sponded to the dread misgiving in my heart, but something 
undoubtedly appealed forcibly to her reason, and gave a point 
of resistance on which her principle could exercise its force. 
In an instant she recovered herself, and turning upon Jack, 
she said : 

“ It is useless. Nothing can alter the difference between 
us. I will not be your wife,” and then holding out her hand 
she added quite firmly — “ Farewell.” 

“ No, no,” said Jack. “ I cannot say good-bye. It is im- 
possible that we should part like this. To-morrow, to-mor- 
row,” and he left us without another word, like one dis- 
traught. 

“ Thank God, you were here,” she said, when he was gone. 
“ I must not see him again ; I am too weak, too weak ! ” 

She could say no more. The tears burst forth, and she 
left the room sobbing as though her heart would break. 

In the afternoon of the next day Jack came to our lodg- 
ings. His haggard face told of a sleepless night of agitation 
and suffering. There was little hope in his face when I 
opened the door to him. 

“Where is she?” he asked under his breath as if some 
dreadful calamity demanded silence. 

“ In her room. But you cannot see her. Jack. She begs 

8 


114 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


you to spare her the pain of another scene like last night’s. 
She’s terribly cut up ; I don’t know how she will get through 
her business to-night if she doesn’t get a little rest. Will you 
come in ? ” 

“ No, no. Poor Kitty ! God knows I don’t want to pain 
her. I won’t come in, old man. I saw the blind down up- 
stairs. It seems as if she were really dead. Come out with 
me.” 

I took my hat off the peg and went out, closing the door 
softly, for I hoped she was sleeping. It did, indeed, seem as 
if she lay dead up there, by our silence and sadness. 

We walked along for some distance without a word. At 
last he said : 

“ Is it really true, Holderness ? It seems impossible to 
me. It isn’t final, is it ? ” 

“ I don’t think I ought to encourage any hope. Jack.” 

“ Has anything led you to think it possible that she might 
change ? ” he asked quietly. 

“No. Her mind is quite made up. She is less likely to 
change now than she was last night. You saw what a struggle 
it was then between love and principle.” 

“Yes; I saw that. Oh, I know she has not given me up 
for any light reason. But I can’t reconcile myself to it. The 
principle is such d d nonsense. You haven’t been put- 

ting these ideas into her head ? ” 

This question, asked rather sharply on top of the ob- 
servation respecting the nature of Kitty’s principles, roughed 
me up a little. It seemed as if no one could give me credit 
for common sense or decent honesty. 

“ No, I haven’t,” I replied tartly. “ I’m not in the habit of 
making mischief. Kitty’s decision was as much a surprise 
to me as it was to you. And it isn’t in her nature either to 
talk with everyone about a subject which she must regard as 
sacred. As to her principles being d d nonsense, that’s 
a matter of opinion for those who consider themselves com- 
petent judges on such matters. One thing is certain — ^prin- 
ciple is not d d nonsense to her.” 

“ No,” said he, without taking the slightest notice of my 
irritation. “ She’s a little, brick every way, and one must 
admire her right feeling, however unreasonable the scruples 
may be that spring from it. And those scruples are absurd.” 

“ I’m not so sure about that,” said I, and I proceeded to 
cite three or four instances of the deplorable results of un- 


KITTY'S FATHER. 



equal marriages. “ In fact/' said I, in conclusion, “ it’s a 
serious question whether artists ought to marry at all.” 

“ Oh, that’s rubbish,” said he, “the clap-trap excuse of cer- 
tain artists who fail to be true to their partners. You know 
as well as I do that there are dozens of women in the profes- 
sion, equally excellent as artists and as wives and mothers. 
Besides that’s another question altogether. Kitty wouldn’t 
have refused me simply because she is an actress, and it’s bad 
enough to have the question of unequal fortune to deal with.” 

“ Well, Jack,” said I, “ it should be a sufficient bar to mar- 
riage that either of the parties has conscientious doubts as to 
its advisability.” 

“That’s true, Holderness,” said he with conviction. “But 
I can’t think the bar insurmountable, and I won’t give up all 
hope till I feel assured that Kitty’s views are unchangeable.”^ 

Before we parted, I ventured to hint that he must consider 
Kitty’s feelings. “ Remember,” said I, “ the poor girl has to 
earn her living ; and it’s hard lines to have to go on the stage 
and play in a farce with a heart full of grief.” 

“ Oh, I shan’t persecute her — ’tisn’t likely,” he replied. “ I 
don’t mean to see her while her mind’s distracted in this way. 
But I must know something about her, I must talk about her 
with some sympathetic friend.” He spoke this with real 
feeling, and a grievous shake in his manly voice that touched 
me. I proposed that while he was in our neighborhood I 
would meet him every afternoon for a stroll and a chat. 

I was not yet utterly without hope that if the will were 
produced we might reasonably exonerate Yorke of having 
stolen it. That, I knew, would change Kitty’s views about 
marriage, and this conviction was strengthened by discover- 
ing that every day she obtained a copy of a Chester news- 
paper from the news-vendor. I also bought copies, and day 
after day I found the same advertisement offering a thousand 
pounds for the recovery of any testamentary papers belong- 
ing to the late vicar of St. Botolph’s. The fact that the 
advertisements still appeared, proved to my mind that Kitty’s 
father possessed the will or had destroyed it to secure the 
fortune to his son-in-law. 

I told Kitty I had seen Jack, and she was eager to know 
all about our walk ; but when I had no more to say on the 
subject, she said after a little quiet meditation : 

“ Uncle, we had better not say anything more about him. 
I’m like my poor father — I want to forget.” 


IID 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


After that I was careful to hold my tongue ; nevertheless 
she knew perfectly well why I went out every afternoon, and 
she never offered to come with me. It was another proof of 
her courage and resolution that she never questioned me 
again about Jack, though her curiosity to know what we 
had been talking about, and her anxiety to know if he was 
bearing his burden bravely must have been great. I believe 
she saw him at night in the audience, though I never could 
find him there, for sometimes she would play. to all parts of 
the house save one, and that without a doubt was where she 
had discovered him. 

But notwithstanding her courage and endurance, the loss of 
her lover and hope deferred preyed upon her mind and affected 
her physical health considerably, so much so that on the 
second night of our week at Liverpool she was forced to leave 
the stage in the second act before the fall of the curtain, and 
Cooper had to come forward and beg the consideration of 
the audience on account of Miss Yorke’s sudden indisposi- 
tion. 

“ It was nothing,” she declared in a tone of vexation, when 
I went up to her. “ It was silly of me, but I couldn’t help it, 
I felt so giddy.” 

She went on in the third act, and encouraged by the ap- 
plause that greeted her, played her part through as well as she 
had ever played it. 

After the show, when I went outside to wait for her. Jack 
crossed quickly from the opposite side of the road, and seiz- 
ing my arm asked breathlessly if Kitty was better. Then I 
knew that he had been in the house at the moment of her 
attack. 

“ Yes,” I replied, “ she is all right now.” 

“ Thank God,” said he fervently. “ I fear I am to blame 
for this. Come to me if you can to-morrow morning early, I 
shall not rest till I know there is no danger.” He left me 
hurriedly, that Kitty might not see him when she came down 
from her dressing-room. 

At ten the next morning I went to the hotel where Jack 
was staying. He was waiting for me outside, and when I told 
him that Kitty had breakfasted with me and seemed quite 
herself again, he pressed my arm to his side in silence, but I 
could see by his face that a great load was removed from his 
mind. Presently, as we were walking down the street, he 
pulled out his pipe and filled it, with a sigh of satisfaction. 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


T17 

That was another good sign, for a man’s mind must be at 
peace for him to smoke with enjoyment. 

“ I shall go away to-day, old man,” he said, after a couple 
of whiffs. “This has woke me up. I ought to have gone a 
week ago instead of hanging about like an idiot. But you 
can’t tell what a joy it has been even to look at her from the 
back of the pit. I ought to have known that her resolution 
was not to be shaken after that night, and it was horribly sel- 
fish and despicable to hang on. That wasn’t the first time 
she found me out in the house.” 

We had reached the water’s edge, and, coming to some 
bales that stood upon the quay, we sat down with one accord, 
and smoked there in silence, looking at the shipping be- 
fore us. Now that I knew he was going to leave us, I re- 
alized more fully what it was to lose such a friend, and I said 
to myself, if I feel this depression at my heart, what must 
poor Kitty feel, to whom this young fellow is a thousand 
times more dear ! 

“ You will write to me, now and then, Holderness,” said 
Jack, after a while, as he took a little box from his waistcoat 
pocket. “Just to keep in touch with me.” 

“ Of course I will. Jack,” said I mournfully. 

He had opened the little morocco box. It was lined with 
white velvet that set off a diamond ring. It was beautiful to 
look at ; the diamonds threw out flashes of colored light, 
as he turned the box in his hand, looking down at it reflec- 
tively. 

“ I bought it for her,” he said quietly. “ Lord, how my 
heart beat with delight at the thought of putting it on her 
finger I It was to have bound us together forever.” And 
then closing the box tenderly, he added, “No other finger 
shall wear it.” And he tossed it out far into the water. 

“ Good heavens ! ” thought I, “ that may be worth forty 
or fifty pounds.” 

We got up and walked away, neither having anything to 
say. I stopped at the end of the street where we lodged, but 
he said : 

“ No, I’ll go in with you. I must say good-bye now.” 

• So we went into the house, and I, with a heart as heavy as 
lead, went up to Kitty’s room and told her that Jack was be- 
low waiting to bid her good-bye. 

“ Shall I go down with you ? ” I asked, as she came out 
into the passage. 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


1 18 

“ No, I am strong now,^^ she replied, and ran down- 
stairs. 

I followed silently, and passing the sitting-room went out- 
side and waited there. 

Very shortly after Jack came out. His chin was twitching, 
his eyes were filled with tears. He wrung my hand in silence, 
and hurried away with a brief nod. I knew then that it was 
all over. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

kitty’s father appears in a new character. 

The very next day I ran up against Bob Yorke in Loftus 
Street. I hardly knew him at the first glance. The hair on his 
face, which was in a scrubby Condition when I last saw him, 
had grown into a respectable b4ard and moustache. He wore 
a silk hat, and a nice ribbed dark frock coat, a pair of tweed 
trousers and smart boots with a bit of gaiter showing. In 
his hand he carried a small sample case with leather strap 
and handle. Anyone would have taken him for a genteel 
traveller in fancy goods. 

I was glad to see him for one reason, and angry for 
another. 

“ Hallo, Mr. Holderness, what a time it is since I saw you 
last ! How do yoii do ? ” said he as he shook my hand. 
“ Come on, let’s have a drink.” 

He had exactly the brisk jaunty rhanner of a successful com- 
mercial man. He played his part admirably, possibly to de- 
ceive the business men with whom the street was thronged. 
I followed him into the private bar of the adjacent house 
to escape observation, and as the door swung to, I said, 
sullenly : 

“ What does this mean ? What is your game now ? ” 

“ Tm travelling for Messrs. Shank and Facet, of Birming- 
: ham,” he replied cheerfully, as he put his case on the bar and 
gave it a slap. “ Now, can I show you anything in the but- 
ton line — ivories, bones or fancies ? ” 

** A likely thing,” I growled, “ that any respectable firm 


KJTTY'^ FATHER. 


1 19 

would employ a man with your record. Why, they wouldn’t 
trust you with a bag of samples.” 

“You will do it, Mr. Holderness, eh ? ” said he, with a 
pretty hard side-kick and a backward flick of his hand to 
make me aware that someone was on the other side of the 
glazed partition within hearing. “ You theatrical men will 
have your joke. Well, what’s it to be — ^Scotch ? Two Scotch, 
miss,” to the barmaid, “ and the Express \i you’ve got it. 
Well, your doing good biz here. I dropped in and had a look 
at your show last night.” 

The change in his appearence accounted for my not seeing 
him in the gallery, whither I invariably cast my eye on going 
into the orchestra. 

The barmaid brought the whisky and the paper. Yorke 
paid her from a little case that contained, I should say, ten 
or fifteen sovereigns, added water to our drams, chatting all 
the while lightly about the play as though he had seen it for 
the first time, and opened the paper as I drank. 

“ ’St’ordinary thing, these robberies ! ” he exclaimed, laying 
his hand on the open sheet, where I saw in big type, “ An- 
other burglary at Birkenhead ; a policeman shot.” “ This is 
the third in a fortnight. Policeman shot. That looks as if 
the game was up. Till now the police have been nowhere — 
ain't got near ’em. They’ve got clear off though, again,” he 
continued, still glancing down the report. “ It beats me alto- 
gether, this series of burglaries. I can understand them 
breaking into a house, and bolting with the swag ; but it’s 
past everything their sticking to the same place, and doing a 
w'hole string of ’em under the very nose of the police. How 
do they get rid of the plunder — that’s what I want to 
know.” 

Another furtive kick, accompanied by a wink as he raised 
his glass, signalled me to finish my whisky^ — the man in the 
next compartment being still there. 

“ Well, here’s luck,” said he, tossing off the drink. “ I 
must be getting on. Coming my way ? ” 

We left the bar, and he, taking my arm, led me up Darly 
Street, and turned into the Commercial Hotel there; telling 
me in an undertone that we might get five minutes’ private 
chat in his room. 

On the first floor two men were gossiping. Yorke opened 
the door of his room and told me to go in, he himself return- 
ing to speak to the men, who had saluted him as we 


120 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


passed. I looked round the room. There was a large 
square case beside the bed, covered with black oilskin, and 
fastened with a bright nickel lock. Putting my hand under 
the strap, I tried to lift it. It was too heavy for me. “ Was 
it likely,” I asked myself, “ that a genuine traveller would 
take, samples in such quantities ; or even supposing that he 
supplied occasional customers with a certain quantity of 
merchandise, instead of booking the order, was it probable 
that this man. Bob Yorke, who but a week or two since was 
picking up a precarious living on race-courses, could get 
such a parcel of goods confided to his care ? ” 

He came to the door, as I took my hand from the strap. 

“ You’ve got hold of a heavy line, there,” he said in his 
loud voice, intending to be heard by his friends on the land- 
ing. “ Are you a buyer for a jobdot of first-class brass 
trousers.” 

He shut the door with a bang, and coming to my side, con- 
tinued in a low tone of anxiety — his manner changing as 
much as his voice : 

“ What’s the matter with Kitty ? ” 

“ Why,” I replied, angrily, “ her heart is broken — that’s 
what’s the matter, and you are the cause.” 

“ What do you mean by that ? ” he asked sharply. 

“ It’s all over between her and Mr. Sherridan. The mar- 
riage is broken off.” 

“What — he’s thrown her over now he’s come into that 
fortune ? ” 

“ No ; he’s a gentleman and an honest man. It’s Kitty 
who refuses to marry. And what’s more she never will 
marry while she believes her father to be — what you are.” 
I pointed to the black case beside the bed as I spoke, feel- 
ing convinced that it contained the plunder obtained by the 
Birkenhead burglaries. 

“ What ! ” he exclaimed, “ you have broken your promise 
and betrayed me.” 

“You betrayed yourself — the sandal-wood box aroused 
her suspicions, and she demanded the information she had a 
right to know, respecting you. I told her no more than I 
knew ; but that was enough to damn you.” 

He struck his open palm with his fist, and turned away in 
silent wrath. 

“ Have you told Sherridan ? ” he asked, after a short in- 
terval facing me, sharply. 


KITTY^S I' A THEK. 


I2I 


“ No,” I replied. “ Though to be quite fair and upright 
with him, I ought to have told all I knew about you, when I 
first learnt that he intended to propose to Kitty. It would 
have saved her this extra grief, maybe. As for Kitty, I be- 
lieve she would rather suffer anything than reveal your dis- 
grace. She is loyal, and considering how you have neglected 
her, the affection she bears you is amazing.” 

“ What, she thinks kindly of me ? ” he asked, eagerly. 

“ Indeed she does. Bob ; and I feel certain that if she 
could find you she would leave me — give up everything, and 
throw in her lot with yours, no matter what you are.” 

He sat down on the side of the bed, and seemed greatly 
moved to hear this. 

“ Come,” I continued, observing this change in him, 
“ doesn’t this induce you to abandon your present course. 
Will you come home with me now and see her ? ” 

He shook his head sadly, with a vacant look in his face, 
his eyes fixed on the floor. It was some time before he 
spoke, at last he said, lifting his head, 

“ I can’t understand it. You say she loves me, and yet 
she falls suddenly to the conclusion that I am a thief and a 
murderer.” 

“ I am not certain that her conclusion was so sudden as it 
seems. There was no certain information respecting your 
fate, and the very way in which we all hushed up your mis- 
doings may have awakened her suspicions. She is a woman, 
now, remember, and a very clear-headed and sensible little 
woman, too. And though we said nothing openly before her, 
yet she may have heard stories about you. Girls will 
gossip, and women can’t keep secrets.” 

“ No, nor some men either,” he observed bitterly. 

Taking no notice of this dig, I pursued. 

Strong as the evidence was against you, she still hoped 
that you would be cleared.” 

“ What reason did she give Sherridan for breaking off the 
the match ? ” 

“ Inequality of position.” 

“ Does he believe that is the sole motive .? ” 

“ No.” 

“ Then he, too, is inquiring for the real cause } ” 

“ Yes.” 

He jumped up from the bed, and paced across the room, 
with his hands in his trouser’s pockets. 


122 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


“ Does she still hope that her suspicions may be dis- 
proved ? ” he asked, stopping before me. 

“ Yes. Every day she has taken in a Chester paper since 
we learnt from Admiral Strong that he had advertised for 
the lost will ; — you have seen those advertisements ? ” 

Without answering my question, he seized hold of the fact 
that we had seen Admiral Strong, and pressed me with ques- 
tion after question, until he knew every particular of the in- 
terview. Then he asked if we had seen anyone else from 
Chester, where Jack had gone, and many other things, all, as 
it seemed to me, with a view to discovering the full extent of 
his own danger. Finally he said, regarding me with sombre 
vexation : 

This all comes of your stupidity, Dick. If you hadn’t 
suspected me Kitty never would.” 

“ Well,” I replied, controlling my indignation, “ you can 
undo all the mischief I have done if you will, and I don’t 
see any reason why you shouldn’t. If that will were re- 
stored in a roundabout way Kitty would believe you inno- 
cent. For the strongest evidence against you is the fact that 
you are holding it back to secure her husband’s fortune.” 

He nodded, tapping the back of one hand with the fingers 
of the other, reflectively, his eyes once more fixed on the floor. 

‘‘You haven’t destroyed that will ? ” I asked. 

He shook his head. 

“ Then why shouldn’t it be given up 1 ” 

“ I must think about that,” said he, suddenly recovering 
his brisk manner. “Now we will go down. We’ve been 
long enough here.” 

“Wait,” said I, laying my hand on his arm as he was 
about to open the door. “ What do you intend to do ? ” 

“Well,” said he, with an harsh laugh, “if I knew, myself, 
you would be the last person in the universe I would take 
into my confidence.” 


KITTY'S FA THER, 


123 


CHAPTER XIX. 

WE BREAK UP AND PART. KITTY AND JACK AND I. 

We parted in the street at the door of the hotel, Yorke 
shaking my hand effusively with the promise to drop into 
the theatre and see me between the acts. But this I knew was 
only intended to mislead any bystanders who might be ob- 
serving us. I saw him no more while we were at Liverpool, 
and as there were no more burglaries in Birkenhead or the 
neighborhood, I concluded that he left very soon after our in- 
terview. 

And now for some two or three weeks nothing occurred to 
break the monotony of our existence. And monotonous in- 
deed it was after the exciting events that preceded Jack’s 
departure, and I missed the pleasant companionship of our 
lost friend more than I could have anticipated. But what 
was this loss to me compared with that which Kitty had to 
bear ! And yet she went through her performance night after 
night with an unflagging spirit, and in our daily intercourse 
suffered no repining word or impatient action to betray the 
deep sorrow and bitter disappointment she had to endure. 
Her resignation, her fortitude and unvarying sweetness of 
temper under these trying conditions, often put me to the 
blush. It was she who made light of the trifles that an- 
noyed me, she who coaxed me into action when I got torpid 
and morose, she who found topics of conversation when I 
was silent. Then I would say to myself, “ It is too bad that 
such helpful sweetness should be wasted on a spiritless, dull 
old fellow like me.” 

Still there were signs of secret suffering which she had not 
the power to conceal. Outsiders, like Cooper, not remark- 
able for quick observation and sympathy, whispered to me, 
“What’s the matter with Kitty ? She looks quite old when 
she comes off the stage. She’s losing flesh, and she ought 
not to have those lines under her eyes.” 

This added to my feeling of depression j but we were not 


124 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


yet at the end of our vein of ill-luck. One day in the second 
week of July, Cooper, after paying me my week’s salary 
said : 

“ You’ll have to look out for another show, Holdemess. 
I’ve made over all the rights of “The Blue-stocking” to 
Bramley Howard, and he’s going to produce it in London. 

I spoke to him about Kitty, but it seems his wife is to take 
her part, so that’s no go.” 

“ Well, you will start another show, I suppose,” said I. 

“ No, thank you. I’ve weighed it all up, and find that 
when I’ve squared up with everybody, I shall be just about 
where I was when I started. I’m satisfied to get out of it 
without burning my fingers, but I shan’t meddle with hot 
coals again for a little while.” 

“ This is bad job for us — out of collar in the middle of the 
off season. When do you close ? ” 

“July the thirtieth. I’m very sorry, you know, old man, 
but I have to look after my little bit.” 

Seeing my long face when I joined her, Kitty asked me at 
once what had happened, but instead of demonstrating any 
regret to find that we were so soon to be thrown out of work, 
her face lit up with pleasure. 

“ The play is to be produced in London. Oh, that is just 
what we have been hoping, isn’t it ? ” said she. 

Her first thought was of Jack : his success was more to her 
than our engagement. 

“ But we’re not in it. Neither you nor 1.” 

“I didn’t expect to be,” said she. “It wasn’t likely 
they would take an unknown player from the provinces to 
play the part. I wonder who they will have ? ” 

“ That’s settled : Mrs. Bramley Howard.” 

“ Well, everyone knows her. It’s sure to be a success ! ” 

I shook my head. Mrs. Bramley Howard was said to be 
the most beautiful woman on the stage — and the silliest and 
vainest, it was rumored amongst those not carried away by 
her personal charms and wonderful dresses. 

“ I only hope she may play it half as well as you do, my 
dear,” said I ; though I really did not hope anything of the 
kind. “ But what are we to do ? ” 

“ Send an advertisement to the Era., to be sure,” she 
replied cheerfully. Nearly every change inspires hope of 
something better in the minds of young people ; it’s not the 
same thing, however, with those who have past the meridian. 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


I2S 

But Kitty had a special reason for desiring some new de- 
parture, some break in the routine of existence which should 
divert her thoughts from the misfortune that had befallen 
her. I think she would have welcomed a spell of minor 
hardships to stimulate her faculties, and prevent her mind 
from brooding. 

We sent our advertisement to the Era to be in3erted in 
the “ out of collar ” columns, and I wrote also to my agent 
in Blackfriars Road, but nothing came of these applications, 
and the end of our short season was approaching with alarm- 
ing rapidity, when at Hull we fell in with Mr. Baker’s Old 
English Comedy Company. In this company was an old 
friend of ours, Mrs. St. Vincent. Off and on I had known 
her ever since she was a slip of a girl playing Ariel at Old 
Sadler’s Wells, and now her size and years only permitted 
her to take such parts as Juliet’s nurse and Mrs. Hardcastle. 
But a better Mrs. Hardcastle never w'alked the boards, and 
she was as good a woman as ever lived, cheerful, honest, 
outspoken and kind-hearted, a little dressy, perhaps, but 
with a deal of sound common-sense in her head for all that. 
As soon as I told her how we were situated, she promised to 
speak to Baker on behalf of Kitty, as their Miss Hardcastle 
was giving herself airs and pretending that she only stayed 
on to oblige. Well, the upshot of this was that Baker called 
upon us the following morning, and offered Kitty six weeks’ 
engagement at three pounds a week, and the usual expenses ; 
he regretted, however, that he could offer me nothing, as the 
company would be going to Dublin the first week in August, 
and he should take no band, but trust to what he could find 
there in the way of music. At this Kitty and I looked at 
each other ruefully, and she at once said that she must take 
time to reflect before deciding. Baker said he should be 
leaving the next day, whereupon I promised he should have 
our decision that evening, and he went away. 

The prospect of losing Kitty for six weeks was very 
grievous to me, for up to this we had never been parted for 
more than a few days at a time since she had been under 
my protection : but I felt that now I must sink all selfish 
considerations for the sake of the poor girl. I knew that she 
had long wanted to go to Ireland to make herself acquainted 
with Irish dialect and character, and it was clear that the 
sea-trip and the complete change of scene and society would 
do her good ; in addition to this, I felt that the companion- 


126 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


ship of a cheerful and light-hearted woman like Mrs. St. 
Vincent, who I was perfectly sure would take charge of her 
like a mother, must have a far more beneficial effect upon 
her mind than anything a sombre old fellow of my sort could 
offer in the way of consolation. So I put the most cheerful 
face I could on the affair, and meeting the objections she 
raised on my behalf, by declaring that I should be glad of a 
little holiday to visit my brother, I induced her to sign an 
agreement with Baker that evening for the Irish tour. 

Mrs. St. Vincent expressed the greatest delight with this 
result, and promised me that Kitty should not go out of her 
sight until she brought her back to me. That was of little 
importance, however, for Kitty I knew was quite able to 
take care of herself, and might be fully trusted to do what 
was right no matter what her condition should be. 

I could see that Kitty was greatly pleased with this 
arrangement, though her affectionate heart was saddened 
whenever the idea of my solitude occurred to her. “ I can’t 
bear to think that you will be alone,” she said with tears in 
her eyes. 

To set her mind at ease on this point, I wrote to my 
brother Charles telling him that I proposed to spend a few 
weeks with him at Peckham, and on receiving a reply to the 
effect that his house was always open to me, I pretended to 
be highly elated by the prospect his invitation presented of 
high-living and general jollification. This required a good 
deal of pretence, for besides the fact that my brother’s invita- 
tion was anything but cordial, I knew that Charles being 
dyspeptic was abstemious and frugal in the matter of diet, 
and having a serious turn of mind, devoted the few hours of 
relaxation wdiich business permitted, to open air preaching on 
Wandsworth Common. Probably Kitty knew this, for she 
was hardly less delighted than I, when, just at the last 
moment, I got an engagement to conduct the band at Scar- 
borough during the absence of Mr. Jones, the bandmaster, 
who had been struck down with typhus fever. I regarded 
this as a rare stroke of luck, my engagement, I mean, for 
though there were three concerts a day with twelve numbers 
in each, and sacred music on Sunday, the pay was good, the 
musicians fairly capable, and there was no street work as at 
Margate or places of that kind, where, I believe, the chef 

orchestra has to go round the terraces with a little tester 
bag for contributions, and catch whatever is thrown down 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


127 


from the windows. Kitty insisted on my making sure of this 
exemption before she permitted me to accept the post. 

Kitty was very busy toward the end of the week preparing 
for her Irish tour, but not a hand stroke did she make in this 
direction, before she had gone carefully over my wardrobe, 
darning the thin places in my socks, and giving an extra stitch 
to every shirt button in order that I shouldn’t have to do these 
things myself during her absence. Then on Saturday night 
we played “ The Blue-stocking ” for the last time, after which 
Cooper treated the company to a nice little supper, and 
two or three little speeches, and we broke up, shaking hands 
with general good-will and a heartywishto meet again soon. 
On Sunday I put Kitty in the train for Liverpool, where she 
was to meet Mrs. St. Vincent, and when it slid out of sight I 
felt that it had taken away all that was dear to me in life, 
and left the platform the most solitary miserable man in all 
England. She had prepared the nicest little dinner possible 
for me before going ; but every mouthful of chicken stuck in 
my throat like cotton wool, and the roly-poly pudding which 
I ate only because she had made it, lay all the afternoon on my 
chest like a leaden bullet. I took up my baton in the even- 
ing, and a more lugubrious and depressing selection I think 
I never before conducted. The most rigid Sabbatarian 
could not have found fault with it. 

These dismal feelings, however, gradually wore off during 
the following week. Kitty, who never failed to send me a 
long letter every day, bless her, wrote in good spirits, and my 
occupation gave me very little time for indulging in morbid 
reflections. There was always plenty of movement about the 
stand, numbers of bright faces and gay dresses to admire, the 
weather was splendid, the air bracing; there were three or 
four very nice men in my band, and Mr. Jones’s health gave 
no signs of improvement ; nevertheless, I was not gay. The 
days seemed prrodigiously long, and I could find no companion 
to fill the place in my heart that Kitty had left vacant, so 
that more often than not, I preferred to find a quiet seat in 
the spare hours of the day where I could smoke a pipe in 
solitude, to the society of new friends. But this state of 
things was altered before long. 

One day about the middle of August on coming down 
from the bandstand after the afternoon concert, a hand was 
laid on my shoulder, and turning about I found myself face 
to face with Jack. 


28 


KITTY^S FA THER. 


“ I thought you were in Dublin with Kitty,” said he, 
shaking my hand warmly. 

“ No ; I have been here since we knocked off with Cooper,” 
I replied. “ How did you know Kitty was in Dublin 

“ I found that out by the Era, She has scored again 
with Miss Hardcastle. Have you seen the notices in the 
Irish papers.” 

“ Yes. She has sent them on to me. The Freeman is 
splendid, isn’t it ? And how did your play go on Saturday ? 
I haven’t seen the London papers yet.” 

“ Oh, a regular fizzle,” said he, with a smile, and not a 
sign of regret in his face. “ That was a foregone conclusion. 
Kitty made the play, and it won’t run a couple of weeks 
without her. Ah, if Bramley Howard had only given her the 
part, it might have run for a year or two.” 

Just then we met a party of three very smartly-dressed 
ladies and a young gentleman. They were friends of Jack’s, 
and when he introduced me, they were good enough to say 
some very flattering things about my band, but in such a tone 
of condescension that I felt rather ashamed than proud of 
my position. And I thought that, perhaps, Kitty was right 
after all : for, apart from any consideration of her father’s 
character, she could never have endured the patronizing 
manners of such fine folks as these, even though they were 
her husband’s friends. 

. “ This is about your tea-time,” said Jack, as we left the 
party, “ are you going home to your lodgings now ? ” 

“ Yes,” I replied. “ Will you com.e with me ? ” 

“ I should think so ! Why, man, you don’t know w'hat pleas- 
ure it gives me to be with you again ; it’s like old times — 
almost,” he added, his voice dropping with a touch of sad- 
ness. 

Neither fortune nor fine friends had weakened his affection 
for us. 


KITTY'S FA THER, 


129 


CHAPTER XX. 

AFRESH TERROR. 

Jack had come to Scarborough with the intention of going 
on, after a day or two, to Whitby, but he abandoned his pur- 
pose and stayed here with me, declaring that there was only 
one other place in the world that had any attraction now for 
him. That place I knew was Dublin. 

We were inseparable. Every morning after breakfast we 
met and took a good breezy walk : after the midday concert 
we dined together at his hotel ; in the afternoon he came to 
my lodgings and took tea with me, and after the evening 
concert we strolled on the pier with our pipes, or .along the 
shore in the moonlight, talking about all sorts of things, but 
chiefly about Kitty. The fund of pleasant reminiscences in 
connection with her seemed inexhaustible. His conversation 
was always cheerful and bright, and it was plain to see that 
despite having thrown their engagernent ring into the sea, he 
still hoped that one day she would be his wife. I said noth- 
ing to encourage the hope, for I entertained none myself. 
The will had not been returned : the evidence against Yorke 
was too strong to be overlooked, and the moral obstacle of 
caste seemed to me now more insurmountable than ever. In 
addition to this, the tone of Kitty’s letters led me to think 
that she was slowly but surely getting Jack out of her thoughts. 
There was not a despondent word in any one of them, and 
though it was possible that she wrote cheerfully in order to 
allay anxiety on my part, I could not conceive her writing in 
this spirit day after day, if the loss of her lover weighed 
heavily on her heart. 

I considered it advisable to show these letters to Jack, in 
order that he might draw his own conclusions from them and 
undeceive himself with regard to her feelings. Contrary to 
my expectations, instead of being cast down, he was decided- 
ly exhilarated by reading them. 

“There’s a capital healthy ring about her letters,” he said. 
“ One can see that she eats well, and sleeps well, and enjoys 

9 


130 KITTY FA THER. 

life like a dear, rational, clear-headed little soul as she is. 
There’s not a morbid thought in her mind. Look here, old 
man, if you screw up a string on your fiddle too tight, it will 
give out a false note : that’s just what happened with Kitty. 
Her mind was overstrung with mental strain and excitement, 
and the objections she raised on the grounds of equality 
were the result. The strain has passed, her mind has re- 
turned to its normal condition, and it will all come right in 
the end.” 

“ You’re wrong. Jack, you’re wrong,” I said, warningly. 

“ Not I,” he replied, laughing with a snap of his fingers. 
“Wait till she comes back.” 

I kept her portrait on the chimney-piece of my sitting-room, 
which was very gorgeous with alabaster ornaments under 
glass shades, and a lustre at each end. Jack called this the 
domestic altar, and every afternoon he brought a fresh flower 
and set it in the little vase beside the photograph ; and surely 
no worshipper at a shrine ever looked with deeper devotion 
and adoration at his saint, than Jack at the portrait of his 
sweetheart. 

# * ’ * * * 

“ How’s Jones,” Jack asked one morning when we met. 

“ He’s getting about again. He talks about coming back 
again to work, next week.” 

“ I’m glad to hear that, for I must go to Chester about 
Monday or Tuesday at the latest. There’s some business to 
be done which cannot be postponed longer. And if you’re 
out of engagement you may be kind enough to help me 
through with the affair.” 

“ I shall be only too happy, if it’s in my power to help 
you.” 

“ There’s no doubt about that, you have just the method- 
ical habits I lack. Something must be done about the vicar- 
age. My grandfather built the house and it’s my property 
now. The new vicar won’t have it ; he prefers the old vicar- 
age. I admire his taste though I regret it. I wouldn’t live 
in the gloomy, ugly place for anything. It gives me the 
doldrums every time I look at it. At the same time it can- 
not be left tenantless. The house agent says he might find 
a purchaser if I put it up for sale before the end of August. 
That means the furniture must be disposed of at once. ‘ Sell 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


131 

the lot by auction,’ I wrote to the man, and he replies that 
he will do so as soon as he has a list of the family effects 
which I wish to reserve. Never thought of that. Of course 
there are lots of things that a respectable grandson ought not 
to part with. That’s a job I could never get through single- 
handed. 1 haven’t a pocket that isn’t bulged out of all 
shape with old letters, simply because I can never make up 
my mind which to burn and which to keep. It would be 
just the same thing with this houseful of furniture. Years 
hence, I might be found in the midst of the lumber, coated 
with dust and festooned with cobwebs, from sheer inability 
to make the first move.” 

I promised to save him from this fate ; and meeting Jones 
on the parade in the afternoon, I learnt that he would certain- 
ly be able to dispense with my services by the following 
Wednesday. 

“ Then I shall wait till Wednesday,” said Jack, when I told 
him. 

But, Jack,” said I, “ have you settled what you are going 
to do with the effects you reserve 1 ” 

“ Dear me, I never thought of that,” he exclaimed. “ It 
don’t matter much if you forget your fish-basket when you 
go out for a day’s angling, for you’re likely enough to get no 
fish to put in it ; but this case is different, the fish is there 
and we must put it in something. By-the-bye, old man, are 
you fond of fishing ? ” 

“ There’s nothing I like better,” said I. 

“ There ought to be some decent sport on the Dee. I’ll 
remember that anyhow.” 

In order to save time he left me on Monday with a view to 
finding a store-house for the furniture, and on Wednesday 
morning he wrote telling me that he had taken an old mill- 
house on the Dee for that purpose, and asking me to let 
him know by telegraph at what hour I should arrive at 
Chester. 

The idea of his taking an old mill-house to store a few 
pieces of furniture amused me considerably, though it did 
not greatly astonish me, for besides being unpractical he was 
unthrifty to an extreme, and seemed not to know the value 
of money. 

He met me on the platform at Chester in the afternoon, 
and giving my portmanteau to a porter, took me outside 
where a neat little trap was standing. 


132 


J-J TTY'S FATHER. 


“ Jump in, old chap,” said he. “ WeVe eight or nine miles 
to go, but the little mare’s a beauty.” 

“ Eight or nine miles ! ” I exclaimed, stepping into the 
trap. 

“ Yes,” said he, laughing at my amazement, as he took 
his seat beside me. “ We’re going to my house / ” 

“ The old mill you spoke of ? ” 

“ That’s it. The jolliest old place you ever saw, and I got 
it by the luckiest chance in the world. I went straight to the 
house-agent on Monday and told him what I wanted, snug 
quarters, good fishing, and a good way from St. Botolph’s and 
the railway. He put me up to this place, which has been let 
to an artist and his family who, good souls, cleared out last 
week. I saw it, liked it, and as it was for sale, I bought it, 
house, meadow, weir, furniture, linen, crockery— the lot.” 

“ Bought it ? ” I exclaimed in redoubled astonishment, 
“ Well, at any rate you didn’t take long to make up your mind 
in that matter.” 

“ You see I could find no argument against buying it.’’ 

“ But the outlay. Jack.” 

“ That was not great, and I had the assurance of my house- 
agent that it was a bargain.” 

He looked at me with a smile on his face, and continued 
in his soft kind tone : “ ‘ Fools and their money are soon 
parted ’ — is that what you were saying to yourself, Dick ? 
Well, money has not brought me so much happiness that I 
should, cling to it tenaciously. And this little speculation is 
not altogether a piece of thoughtless folly. Whatever hap- 
pens it will be pleasant to have a little home to run down to, 
now and then, to work out an idea, to idle away a few days 
with the go-as-you-please and do-as-you-like feeling which is 
not to be had in an hotel.” 

“ Why, that’s true. Jack,” I said, “ and there’s another 
advantage you have not enumerated, but which I wager you 
did not overlook in the transaction— and that is the pleasure 
you can give to an old friend out of collar.” I had not for- 
gotten what had passed between us with regard to fishing, 
nor he either. 

An hour’s smart drive brought us to the brow of the hill 
overlooking the river, and through a break in the trees. Jack 
pointed out a many-gabled red-brick house by the water-side, 
and told me that was his mill. It was most picturesque and 
charming to the eye, even at that distance. 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


133 

“ Ah, that’s a real old English house,” said I, “ and none 
of your modern antiques.” 

“ And consequently,” replied Jack, “ there’s not a level bit 
of flooring from kitchen to cockloft, and there’s not a door- 
way you can pass without bending ; but on the other hand 
there’s a fireplace with a settle in the old kitchen that makes 
you long for a chilly evening ; and you can catch trout from 
the dairy window.” 

Pretty as the old house was from a distance, I found it ten 
times more delightful when we drove into the stable-yard, 
with the sound of the weir in one’s ears, and the glimpse of 
an orchard on one side, and of an old-fashioned flower garden 
on the other bordering the course of the mill stream, to say 
nothing of tea-things laid on a snow-white cloth which caught 
one’s eye in passing the long, open latticed window of the 
sitting-room. A fresh buxom woman curtseyed to us with a 
good welcoming smile from the porch, and a lad run up from 
the orchard to take charge of the horse. 

“ Why, Jack,” said I in a low voice, “ have you managed to 
find servants and all in a couple of days ^ ” 

“ They are neighbors who had the letting of the place and 
looked after the late tenants and — well, they threw themselves 
in with the lot.” 

My room was a real picture, and indeed everything about 
the place was delightful to look at ; Jack, however, would 
not give me time to admire one half, but calling out that tea 
was ready turned my thoughts into another pleasant channel. 
And what tea had that excellent Mrs. Bailey prepared for us 
— watercress and home made jam, and a cold ham and new 
laid eggs and toasted bacon with some hot baked cakes, fresh 
butter, a sweet brown loaf, an old-fashioned tea urn and a 
great tankard of ale, “ in case either of you gentlemen should 
prefer it,” as Mrs. Bailey told us. “ Lord ! ” thought I, 
“ here is more than I should buy for myself in five years.” 
But the sight of this abundance of good things was most 
grateful and refreshing, I finding myself pretty sharp-set with 
the journey and drive, and I felt in that expansive and genial 
mood when everything seems to present a good side, even 
the extravagance of my young friend, — for what was to be 
done, I asked myself later on, with all that left our table 

“Jack, my boy,” said I, clapping him on the shoulder, as 
Mrs. Bailey left the room, “ if this cost you a thousand pounds 
it’s money well spent.” 


KITTY^S FA THER. 


134 

He was evidently pleased to hear this ; though by the 
twinkle in his eye I perceived that something in my observation 
which I failed to remark at the time, tickled his sense of 
humor. 

“ I’m glad you like it,” said he, then glancing round the 
room, he added, “ Still, there’s something wanting in it. 
There’s a lack of color or something.” 

Following his glance I agreed with him. It struck me 
that a few bright flowers would look well against the dark 
oak panels, and that light drapery at the windows would 
make it gayer. I said to myself, “ What a paradise Kitty 
would make it, with her delicate taste and fine eye for har- 
monious effect.” Perhaps the same thought was passing 
through Jack’s mind. 

“ It’s good to have a place that one can improve,” said he ; 
“ at any rate there’s room here for some pieces of furniture 
from the vicarage.” 

“Ah, we will begin that job to-morrow morning. Jack.” 

He nodded, and told me that he had been over to St. 
Botolph’s in the morning with a view to making a beginning. 
“ Byt-he-bye,” he added, “ did I bring the keys away .? ” He 
felt in his pockets, one after the other, carefully, and found that 
he certainly had not the keys in them. “ I must have left 
them in the door,” he explained, adding that the keys were 
all together on a ring, and then concluded carelessly, “ Oh, 
never mind, no one is likely to go in there.” 

It seemed to me excessively imprudent to leave the matter 
thus ; and after some discussion I persuaded him to drive 
over to St. Botolph’s in the evening and fetch them. 

“ I am afraid it will rain,” he said, as we settled ourselves 
in the trap. 

“ What does that matter ? We have overcoats with us. 
And a drive in the rain is enjoyable when one has a quick 
horse, a good companion and plenty of tobacco.” 

Not to go over the same ground again. Jack struck out by 
another road which took us considerably out of our way, so 
that by the time we reached St. Botolph’s it was past eight 
and growing dusk. A thin rain fell, and this, together with 
the mist that rose from the ground and the leaden cloud that 
spread over the sky without a rift, made the obscurity greater. 
The vicarage stood back from the road in grounds sur- 
rounded by a high brick wall. The house was partly masked 
by some high elms. A turning from the main road bounded 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


135 

one side of the grounds and glancing down this opening I 
caught sight of some outbuildings, and it was there, I con- 
cluded, from the evidence I gathered at the inquest, that the 
well was situated in which the murdered vicar had been 
thrown. From the moment Jack pointed out the square 
tower of St. Botolph’s a silence had fallen on us, and neither 
of us spoke a word until Jack pulled up at the front gate. 

“ Come in with me, Dick,” said he, then ; “it gives me the 
horrors to go into the fiightful old place alone.” 

I acceded willingly, and he, having attached the rein to the 
gate, put his hand through the bars and turned the fasten- 
ing. 

“It’s unlocked,” said he; “that shows I must have leh 
the keys in the house.” 

We passed into the gloomy garden ; the moist gravel 
scrunched under our feet. Heavy drops fell with a monoton- 
ous plash from the overhanging boughs of the elms. Amongst 
the evergreens that edged the walk the cobwebs hung in 
clotted festoons, broken with the weight of the moisture. 

“ Fancy living in a place like this,” said Jack in a sub- 
dued voice, with an involuntary glance down a dark alley 
turning from the path in the direction of the outhouses. It 
was down that alley, perhaps, that his grandfather had been 
carried on the night of the murder. 

The path opened on a lawn, overgrovv^n now, dank and 
charged with wet ; beyond stood the house, a fair example 
of architectural taste fifty years ago — perfectly square and 
symmetrical, a door in the middle with a portico supported 
by Doric columns, flanked on each side by a veranda run- 
ning along the facade beneath the bedroom windows. Un- 
der the veranda were French windows opening upon a paved 
terrace raised a few inches above the level of the lawn. 

Jack crossed the lawn quickly to get the business over, and 
examined the door. 

“ Not there,” said he. “ I may have left them in the back 
door ; wait here, old man, a minute.” 

He ran off hastily, leaying me under the portico. My eyes 
turned with a gruesome infatuation to the windows on the 
left, remembering what I had heard about the position of 
the library. The windows were closed with inside shutters. 
“ By that window the poor old man was carried out,” I said 
to myself ; “ by whom ? Was it by Kitty’s father } ” 

I was looking at the shutters v/ith that fixity peculiar 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


136 

to a state of mental abstraction, when a strange phenom- 
enon paralyzed my senses, checking my breath in the very 
act of respiration. It seemed to me that one leaf of the shut- 
ters was slowly moving back. Was it a fancy begot by my 
reflections on the crime committed in that room, and the un- 
canny influence on my mind of the gloomy surroundings, I 
asked myself, or was it an actual fact ? I blinked my eyes, 
and riveted my attention afresh upon the leaf of the shutter 
within the closed window. A dark line a quarter of an inch 
in breadth proved beyond doubt that the shutter was not 
closed ; and the line grew in breadth under my eyes. I could 
no longer doubt the fact. There was not a breath of air to 
account for it ; and there was but one conclusion to be drawn 
— someone in that room was stealthily opening the shutter 
to discover who had tried the door. 


CHAPTER XXI. 

THE MAN WHO WAS HID IN THE LIBRARY. 

Convinced that the shutter had moved, it struck me at 
once that someone, knowing the house to be untenanted, had 
come there with dishonest intentions, and finding the keys in 
the door had entered, pocketing the keys, and, alarmed by 
the sound . of the back door being tried, was now cautiously 
ascertaining if he could make a dash for escape by the front 
of the house ; and if there had been no further movement I 
should certainly have called out to Jack as soon as I regained 
sufficient self-possession to raise my voice. The terror I felt 
must have been plainly visible in my face to the observer 
within who commanded a view of me through the opening, 
and my intention to give the alarm may have been equally 
evident ; but be that how it may, he at once took an effectual 
means of silencing me by rapidly pushing back the shutter, 
and revealing his face close to the window, with a finger raised 
warningly to his lips. He kept his face there just long 
enough for me to recognize that it was Kitty’s father, and 
then swiftly and noiselessly he closed the shutter. The whole 
incident had probably occupied less than a couple of minutes, 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


137 

for as Yorke’s face disappeared I heard Jack’s firm, quickstep 
on the path that led round from the back of the house. 

My legs shook under me ; I was sick with fear, and I felt 
the perspiration standing cold on my face, but the vital ne- 
cessity of concealing my discovery from Jack restored my self- 
possession to a certain degree, and I had just time to gather 
my wits together and take a couple of paces along the terrace 
before he turned the corner. He saw me strolling along the 
terrace with my hands behind me, in seeming indifference ; 
but if he had come half a minute sooner he would have found 
me with staring eyes and open mouth gazing at the library 
window, and it would have taken the very deuce to deceive 
him. 

“ They’re not there,” he said, coming up the path. “ I can’t 
tell where on earth I left them, but as all the doors are locked 
and not the gate, it would seem that I had dropped them be- 
tween the house and the road. However, the house is all 
right, so the loss will only give a job to the locksmith. 
What’s the matter, old fellow, don’t you feel well ? ” he asked, 
stopping as we were crossing the lawn, and looking in my 
face. 

“ Nothing,” I stammered. “ I’m afraid I ate a little too 
heartily at tea, that’s all.” 

“Oh, well, the best thing for an attack of that kind is to 
get home as quickly as possible to supper,” he replied with 
an attempt at gaiety, which was scarcely in keeping with an 
uneasy backward glance at the house. “ Hang the place,” 
he muttered, “ the mist and gloom are enough to upset any- 
one. One could imagine anything — ghosts, strange sounds, 
anything ! ” 

Had he heard anything at the back of the house to occa- 
sion this remark? Was there someone else beside Kitty’s 
father in there ? I asked myself. 

Happily Jack’s spirits rose as soon as we got away from 
the vicarage, and he chatted as the mare spanked along, 
leaving me very little to say ; otherwise I should have had to 
plead continued sickness to account for my silence. Indeed 
it was as much as I could do to seize the sense of his obser- 
vations and answer yes and no appropriately, so completely 
was my mind embarrassed with the fact of Kitty’s father 
being in the vicarage and the speculations that arose from it. 

I could not believe that he had gone there with the pur- 
pose of committing a robbery ; the game was not good 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


138 

enough. The only explanation that seemed to me at all 
plausible was that Yorke had entered the vicarage, not to com- 
mit another robbery, but to restore the will he had already 
stolen. The theory by which I arrived at this conclusion was 
this : — Yorke had seen Jack in Chester. He also had learnt 
from the Era or some other paper that Kitty was in Dublin. 
This had confirmed my statement that the engagement was 
broken off, and convinced him that the only means of over- 
coming Kitty’s scruples was to act upon my suggestion and 
restore the will in such a manner that she would no longer have 
reason to believe him guilty of the murder and robbery. 
Accidental circumstances might have impelled him to make 
the restoration in this particular manner : for example, at the 
moment of seeing Jack the latter might have let the bunch 
of keys fall on the path in the act of dropping them into his 
pocket. The possession of the keys had suggested the idea 
of getting into the house at a favorable time, and there find- 
ing some place in which to deposit the will, some receptacle 
where, in the course of time, it would be found. He had 
waited till the light began to fail and then entered the house, 
locking the door after him for safety. Naturally it would 
require time to find a hiding-place for the will, which might 
have been overlooked in the rigorous search that had been 
made ; and his object was not yet accomplished when we 
arrived in search of the missing keys. 

I admit this hypothesis involved a series of coincidences 
to which many objections could be taken, but it seemed to 
me on the whole fairly reasonable, and was the more accept- 
able because it accorded with my dearest wish. It is easy 
to believe what one hopes, and my belief in this explanation 
grew so strong that I quite recovered my equanimity by the 
time we reached the Mill-House and found a capital appetite 
for the excellent supper laid before us, smoked a gay pipe 
afterwards with a glass of grog, and slept the night through 
like a top in the sweetest sheets that ever a man tucked 
under his nose. One enjoys a good bed after a provincial 
tour, and such accommodation as the strolling player has 
to put up with. 

Coming down in the morning, I found Jack walking reflec- 
tively in the garden between the borders, which were gay 
with tall hollyhocks and good old-fashioned flowers. The 
wind had risen and broken the clouds up into great cumulous 
masses, between which the sky was of the most beautiful 


KITTY^S FA THER. 


139 


blue, and the water from the weir sparkled and flashed in the 
sunlight. It was delicious ! 

“ Thinking out another play, Jack ? said I. “ Lord I a man 
ought to do good work here ; it’s just the place.” 

“Yes,” he answered, as he shook my hand, “if one only 
had a collaborator to help knock the ideas into shape.” 

This set me thinking how sweet it would be to see him 
walking up and down the old garden with an arm about 
Kitty’s waist, and I seemed to hear their laughter in the ripple 
of the water as they built up the scenes of a comedy together, 
and discussed the matter that came from their active imagi- 
nations. “ What good work they might do, and what enjoy- 
ment and fun they could get out of their work ! ” I said to 
myself. 

We strolled into the orchard and admired the crop of apples 
there until Mrs. Bailey’s boy Jimmy came to tell us breakfast 
was served, then we went into the delightful old dining-room, 
with its well-spread table and a delightful smell of good 
things. 

“ There is something wanting,” said Jack after breakfast, 
as he looked round the room. 

For my own part I felt that a pipe would quite satisfy all 
Tequirements after such a plentiful repast ; but not to be out 
of sympathy with him, I agreed that perhaps the room would 
look gayer for a flower or two here and there. 

“ I’d as soon wear a wreath of roses as think of cutting 
flowers for this room with no woman’s face to give them a 
raison said he in his fine bluff manner. 

“Go and cut the flowers. Jack, while I get the raison 
I replied. We understood each other well ; and while 
I went up to get Kitty’s portrait out of my portmanteau, he 
fetched a handful of flowers — those maybe which he had 
singled out in his early stroll as worthy to give his sweet- 
heart, were she there to adorn. So we chose a place, and set 
up Kitty’s likeness with flowers about it, where we could see 
it as we came into the room and when we sat at table ; and 
for a certainty we both felt happier and more contented for 
this embellishment. But I said to myself that if Bob Yorke 
had acted up to my hopes and expectations then we should 
indeed have nothing in the world to desire, for Kitty herself 
would in a short time come to beautify this delightful house 
and fill it with sweetness and light. 

Impatient to find if he had fulfilled my wish I urged Jack 


140 


KITTY^S FATHER. 


to drive over without delay to St. Botolph’s, and set about our 
business there ; and before long we were rattling along the 
pleasant road in the trap. 

“ I suppose we shall have to go to Chester and find a lock- 
smith in order to get into the house,” said Jack. 

But just before we came into the village a policeman, recog- 
nizing Jack, stepped off the pathway, touching his cap as a 
signal to stop. My heart went up into my mouth ; for though 
of course he was a local policeman, it was ominous that he 
should have something to say to us. Had anything happened 
at the vicarage ? Was Yorke apprehended in an attempt to 
take off any property from the house ? These were the ques- 
tions that came at once into my mind as Jack reined in his 
mare. 

“ Ask your pardon, sir,” said the constable, “ but you are 
Mr. Sherridan, I believe ? ” 

“Yes,” said Jack, “that’s my name.” 

“ Have you happened to lose a bunch of keys, sir? ” 

“ I lost them yesterday ; they are keys of the vicarage.” 

“ I thought they was, sir,” said the man, putting his hand 
in his pocket, “ for I found the front gate unlocked, and one 
of these here keys fits it.” He handed up a bunch of keys. 

“Yes, these are the keys I lost. Where did you find 
them ? ” 

“Well, sir, they were give to me by a party as caught sight 
of them in the grass alongside the wall as he was passing the 
vicarage this morning.” 

“ I should like to give him a tip. Do you know the 
man ? ” 

“ No, sir ; the man is a stranger in these parts. All he told 
me was that his name was Ivins, and he was a jobbin’ 
plumber on his way to find a bit of work in Chester.” 

“ Well, I’m much obliged to Mr. Ivins,” said Jack, “ and 
if you see him again give him this ; if you don't see him, you 
know,” he added, handing the half-crown with a twinkle in 
his eye, “ you can keep it for yourself, Mr. Policeman.” 

I had no doubt now, that the keys had been, given up by 
Yorke ; for Ivins was clearly the local pronunciation of Evans, 
and that was the name Yorke had given me as his alias, when 
we met at Nottingham. The significance of his giving that 
name to the constable was unmistakable ; it was to allay 
my fears as to his purpose in visiting the vicarage, if I made 
inquiries as to the finding of the keys. 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


141 

I approached the house with very different feelings to those 
I had experienced the night before, for now I felt confident 
that my theory was sound, and that Kitty’s father had found 
means to restore the stolen will. 

Impatient to begin the search, I entered the library with- 
out one compunctious thought of the crime that had been 
committed there, and unhesitatingly threw open the shutters 
which had inspired me with such terror the night before. 
There was the usual furniture of a library, book-cases, cabi- 
nets, an escritoire, etc., and I took them all in at a glance. 

“ Where are your grandfather’s papers kept, Jack ? ” I 
asked. 

“ Oh, they’re all in London ; Cunningham took them away 
with him,” hq replied with a smile, amused, I suppose, with 
the promptitude with which I attacked the business. 

“ Well, these books. Jack ; we may as well begin with them,” 
said I, going to a book-case, for I thought it not improbable 
that Yorke had slipped the will into one of the volumes. 
“ Where’s the key ” 

“ Needn’t trouble about them, Dick. They’re all ecclesi- 
astical works. I shall make a clean sweep of the lot. In 
fact I don’t think there’s anything here that I need preserve 
— come into the drawing-room.” 

I resolved to go into everyone of the books before I left 
the house ; however, to conceal my anxiety, I followed Jack 
into the drawing-room, where he pointed out two or three 
light and artistic pieces of furniture which he thought he 
should like to keep. 

“ They are family relics, I suppose,” said I, not immedi- 
ately seeing his object in-selecting them. , 

“ No,” he answered, “but I thought they might go in the 
oak-panelled room. Make it look a little more habitable, 
you know.” 

Then I perceived he was thinking of what would give 
Kitty pleasure if she resided there. 

“ And there are some old oak-chairs in the dining-room,” he 
continued, opening the door of communication. It struck 
me that, going at this rate, we should finish the job in half an 
hour ; indeed I think that was his impression, for he had left 
the trap at the gate. 

“ Why, you seem to have made up your mind pretty 
quickly. Jack, considering that last week you could not 
determine where to begin.” 


142 


KITTY'' S FA THFR, 


“ M — yes,” he replied, stroking his chin with that sup- 
pressed humor in his face which showed the latent mirth iu 
his disposition. “ M — yes ; but you see I hadn’t a mill-house 
to furnish then. Now these old chairs wouldn’t be out of 
place there, and would certainly be more comfortable than 
those rush-bottomed affairs. I think we’ll fix on them, 
eh?” 

“ But you could buy the same sort of thing at any furni- 
ture dealer’s,” I remonstrated, “ whereas those ecclesiastical 
works ” 

“ Oh, hang the ecclesiastical works ! You may have the lot, 
Dick, if you’re fond of that kind of reading. I’m not.” Then 
changing his tone as he regarded me, he said : “ Why are 
you looking so precious grave, old fellow ? ” 

“ Jack,” said I, feeling that I must not let this chance 
slip through my hands, “ you must forgive me for opening a 
delicate subject ; but as your happiness as well as mine is con- 
cerned, I shall make bold to say out what is in my mind. 
You’re thinking of Kitty more than anything else, and you 
wish to make the old house more charming and more com- 
fortable for her sake, believing that when she comes back 
from Ireland she will be your wife.” 

“ It’s true, Dick,” said he gently, “ and don’t you think she 
will have me when she sees that I don’t care for society, 
and can live with contentment in a little out-of-the-world cor- 
ner like that ? ” 

“ No, Jack,” said I, “ I know my niece better than you 
do. Her scruples are not to be overcome by such induce- 
ment, powerful as it may be and much as she loves you. 
This taste for seclusion may not outlive the summer. Little 
by little the temptation to employ your fortune may wean 
you from this simple life. You believe that her objections 
arose from an unhealthy state of mind; but I assure you 
that they will only be strengthened by additional mental 
vigor.” 

He had sufficient penetration to see the weakness of my 
position, the incongruity of the objections I attributed to 
Kitty. Nevertheless, seating himself on a corner of the 
table, he folded his arms upon his broad chest and pondered 
gravely what I had said in silence, for some minutes ; then 
looking up he said : 

“ These disheartening reflections did not seem to strike 
you in the library, Dick.” 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


143 


“No; for my spirits were buoyed up with the hope of 
sweeping away the obstacle by another means.” 

“ What means ? ” he asked eagerly. 

“ It struck me that in going carefully through all your 
grandfather’s effects we might by hazard light upon that 
which others had overlooked. These books have a special 
attraction for me, because it seems possible that your grand- 
father might have slipped a paper in one of the volumes he 
was reading. If that paper was the will which Cunningham 
told us your grandfather made, disinheriting you, and we 
could find it, I wager my life Kitty would sink all other 
objections and come to your arms to-morrow.” 

“ Then, for God’s sake,” cried he, springing from the table, 
“ let’s have at those books at once.” 


CHAPTER XXII. 

WE SEE SOMETHING MORE OF THE ADMIRAL. 

We began the work at once in real earnest. My hope 
was backed with something like confident expectation ; but 
it is difficult for me co say what Jack’s feeling was in the 
matter, knowing that the ground we were going over had been 
worked before, and ignorant of those facts which animated 
me. Possibly he regarded my hope and Kitty’s scruples as 
fundamentally groundless, though I am sure he esteemed 
Kitty none the less for adhering to her principles. Prob- 
ably he regarded the renewed search as nothing more than a 
forlorn hope ; but that only nerved him with a reckless, 
desperate determination to fight well and die hard. With 
dogged patience he did his share of the work, undaunted by 
the hopelessness of the task, unflagging in energy. One by 
one we passed the books under examination. When a doubt 
occurred about our having overlooked a volume, he went 
through it not to lose any possible chance. If the thing was 
worth doing at all, it was worth doing well, that was clearly 
his opinion. When the books were done, we attacked the 
furniture. Not a drawer, not a cover, nor any movable part 
was left unexplored. We took up the carpets, removed 
hangings, examined the backs of pictures and glasses, we 


144 


KITTY'S FA TBER. 


even went so far as to sound the walls for secret cupboards 
or hiding-places, and all in vain. Our search occupied us 
five whole days, and at last we were both forced to admit 
that we could do no more. Then I had to admit to myself 
that, whatever Yorke’s object had been in revisiting the scene 
of his crime, it was not to restore the will. A feeling of 
savage and furious vindictiveness seized me when I thought 
of the man who had tricked me into this false hope, this 
scoundrel who, knowing that he had ruined the happiness of 
his daughter’s life, had neglected the opportunity of redeem- 
ing his fault in some measure by restoring the will and her 
peace of mind. 

I could not conceal the mortification and chagrin I felt, 
and Jack, seeing my dejection, did his best to cheer me up. 

For him the disappointment was far less. “ We are seem- 
ingly where we were before,” said he, and that meant, he still 
hoped in Kitty’s renouncing her scruples. “ We’ve done our 
best, and now our work is done, we’ll enjoy ourselves. To^ 
morrow, Dick, we’ll hunt up some fishing lines.” 

Accordingly next morning we got together all the tackle in 
the place, and spent a pleasant morning in preparing hooks, 
and floats, and lines for sport in the afternoon. Just as Mrs. 
Bailey was bringing in the lunch tray, we, sitting quietly by 
the window, heard a stentorian voice on the other side of the 
mill-stream calling to the boy Jimmy, who was grubbing in 
the garden for worms. 

“ You, boy ! Is the fishing in this water preserved ? ” 

“Yes, sir,” answered little Jimmy, smartly. 

“Then tell your master I’m going to drop my line in here, 
and don’t intend to take it out till I’ve landed half a dozen 
trout.” 

“ Do you hear that. Jack? ” I asked, indignantly. 

He nodded, with a smile of good-humor. 

“ I seem to know that voice,” was his only comment. 

“ And, boy ! ” the voice called again, “ you can tell your 
master that my name’s Strong, and I live at the Cedars, St. 
Botolph’s, in case he may want to bring an action against 
me.” 

In due course Jimmy came to the window, and, touching 
his cap, reported faithfully what he had overheard. 

“Tell the gentleman,” said Jack, quietly, “that when he 
has done poaching, I shall be greatly honored if he will come 
and take a crust of bread and cheese with me.” 


KITTY'S FATHER. 145 

Presently we heard Jimmy’s shrill little voice delivering 
Jack’s message to the admiral. 

“ Boy, come and hold this rod,” returned he ; “ your master, 

I see, is a man with some stuff in him, and damme if I don’t 
take him at his word.” 

Presently we heard what Jack called the phantigrade step 
of the admiral crossing the yard, and such a gait was suitable 
to the uncivil old bear who a minute later marched into the 
room. Jack rose to meet him. 

“What, it’s you, Mr. Jack!” cried the admiral, stopping 
short as he recognized him ; “ why this is running into a 
friendly port in a fog with a witness to it.” He flung down 
his straw hat, and, taking Jack’s hand, gave it a grip, as I 
could see by the pursing of his lips, that put Jack’s power of 
physical endurance to the test ; it was obvious, also, by the 
nod of satisfaction with which he relinquished it, that Jack 
returned the grip with interest. “ And who have we here ? ” 
said he, turning upon me ; “why, Fiddlesticks, as 1 live ! ” 

I advanced my hand in fear and trembling, but he let me 
off with a moderate squeeze, having already got the gauge of 
my forces. 

“ And where’s Miss Kitty } ” he asked, looking round ; 
“ hard by, I warrant.” 

He looked at Jack in astonishment as I explained that 
Kitty was playing at Dublin, and then said in a tone of 
disgust : 

“ Well, if that’s your modern way of sweethearting, I’m 
not surprised marriage is going out of fashion. If I were 
thirty years younger I’d show you how such a dainty lass 
deserves to be courted.” 

“ If you were thirty years younger,” said Jack with a shade 
of displeasure on his open face, “ I should show you the 
shortest way into the mill-stream for touching on a subject 
that doesn’t concern you.” 

“ You’re right, Mr. Jack,” said the admiral after a moment’s 
reflection. “ And the first thing I should do after taking my 
sousing would be to ask your pardon for having forgotten my 
good manners.” With that he held out his hand, and Jack 
having given it the required crush of forgiveness, the 
skirmish ended and we sat down to lunch. 

“ Though, I will say,” persisted the sturdy admiral, “ that 
I’m sorry Miss Kitty is not here, for a brighter, sweeter and 
more fascinating little lady T never met, nor one who better 

10 


146 


KITTY'S FATHEjR. 


understands the fine art of hospitality/’^ (Jack agreed to this 
with a smiling nod.) “ However, as there is no lady present, 
we can let our cables run free without setting a watch over 
our hawse-holes. So now to begin with, give us a cut of that 
corned beef, Mr. Jack, and be d- — -d to you.’/ 

Conversation after this ran freely enough, especially on the 
part of the admiral, who rated us in no measured terms, when 
he learnt that we had been a week at the Mill-House, for not 
having the civility to give him a neighborly call. 

But perhaps,” said he .to Jack, “ you felt a bit chuffy on 
account of the reply I sent you through your solicitor with 
regard to the offer you thought fit to make me.” 

“No,”' said Jacl^ “ I think I understand your feeling on 
the subject.” . 

“You’d understand it more thoroughly if you’d taken the 
trouble to make yourself better acquainted with us. What ? 
do you think my Nell and I have, no more spirit than a 
couple of needy beggars on the look-^out for anyone’s cast-off 
clothes ? ” . 

“ I see,” said Jack, slyly, “ that you are still advertising 
for the lost will.” ■ 

“ I catch your aim, my boy,” replied the admiral cheerfully, 

“ but allow me to observe that your guns are pointed d — d 

wide of the mark. If I can show any legal right to the money 
I’ll take every penny; but not a shilling will I owe to any 
man’s generosity. Nothing in the world could pay us for the 
loss of independence.” 

“ I suppose nothing has come from those advertisements,” 
Jack said, with a view, -I think, of turning the conversation. 

“ Why do- you suppose that ? ” asked the admiral sharply. 

“ Because you continue to advertise.” 

The admiral grunted, and after eating a mouthful in silence 
said: : 

“I thought you had a better reason than that.” 

“ You are still hopeful of some result,” I ventured to sug- 
gest. 

: “ Well, I’m pretty sure of one result, Mr. Twiddle, and that 
is a long bill from the advertising agents. Whether I shall 
have the money to pay it is a matter I am not so certain 
about.” , . 

Something in the old fellow’s manner conveyed the impres- 
sion that he was a little more reticent than he need be, and 
that he, to use his own expression, was now watching; his 


KITTY^S FATHER. 


147 


hawse hole, and not letting the cable run quite so freely as 
hitherto. 

“ If the will exists and is in the hands of an ordinary thief, 
the advertisements are scarcely likely to touch him now,” 
Jack observed with an air which I think was purposely care- 
less. 

“ Umph,” grunted the admiral, holding in his cable still 
more closely. 

“ Perhaps,” said I, tentatively, “ you have reason to think 
no longer that it has fallen into the hands of a common 
thief.” 

“ And perhaps,” he returned, nodding at me over his ale, 
“perhaps you’re under the impression that I’m a leaky old 
hulk and may be pumped out with a penny squirt. Here’s 
to your health and better understanding, Twiddle.” 

“ Well, sir,” said I, losing my temper under his irritating 
rudeness, “if you have any information that may lead to the 
recovery of the will, it is not from us that you need trouble 
yourself to conceal it. And you may lay more value on this 
intimation when I tell you that for a week past Mr. Sherridan 
and I have been searching for it at the Rectory, each day 
from morning till night, in order that you might be compelled 
to take the fortune you pride yourself on having refused. 
The task was comparatively hopeless, for, as you are aware, 
a thorough search had been previously made, but we didn’t 
relax our efforts till we had proved to our own satisfaction 
that the lost will had not been overlooked by those who- ” 

“ Hold on there,” cried the admiral ; “ I can enjoy ^ good 
tune as well as anyone, but d n your long-winded varia- 

tions. Mr. Jack, you have reason. I’ll admit, to regard me as 
a tight-fisted old curmudgeon, spry to take what I can get, 
and sticking tight to what I’ve got ; but I’ll show you I’m not 
the mean dog that I seem, neither. It’s true that I’ve got 
my suspicions. I believe that the will exists, and what’s 
more, I’m firmly convinced that I could lay my hands this very 
day on the rascal who’s got it. But I’ll tell you no more 
than that, for it’s against the principles of honest warfare to 
open fire while there’s a single doubt in favor of the enemy.” 

“ Surely, admiral,” said Jack with a smile, “you’d signal 
your fleet to keep an eye on the suspected craft, to lessen his 
chance of giving you the slip.” 

“ There’s something in that, to be sure,” replied the old 
man, scratching his chin reflectively. “ Well, if you’re minded 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


148 

to overhaul the rascal, do you come up to the Cedars and' 
stay with us for a few days. In that way you may gratify 
your own curiosity and give us pleasure at the same time. 
Neil’s as anxious as I am to see you, and you also,” he added, 
turning to me, “ for my girl is a rare hand at your overtures 
and oratories, and hornpipes of that sort.” 

After a short discussion, we promised to visit the admiral 
in the following week, and he, clasping our hands on this un- 
derstanding after lunch, thanked us heartily for the pleasure 
we had given him, and took up his hat to go. 

At that moment we heard the sound of wheels in the yard, 
and the admiral, glancing through the window, whither he had 
gone for his hat, gave a low exclamation of a surprise, mingled 
with displeasure, and muttered something about speaking of 

the D and making him appear. For a moment he stood 

looking into his hat reflectively ; then dabbing it on his head 
with sudden resolution, he shook hands with us again and left 
the room brusquely, as Mrs. Bailey entered with a couple of 
cards. 

“ Ask the gentlemen to walk in,” said Jack to Mrs. Bailey, 
as he handed me the cards. I read on one “ The Rev. 
Crawley Shepherd, B. A., St. Botolph’s,” and on the other 
“ Decimus Shuttle, Chicago.” And the next minute the 
curate entered the room, thanking Mrs. Bailey so much,” 
followed by Mr. Decimus Shuttle of Chicago, whom, to my 
complete bewilderment, I recognized as none other than Bob 
Yorke — Kitty’s father ! 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

ONCE MORE YORKE CHANGES HIS CHARACTER. 

I WAS SO completely stupefied with the astonishment of 
recognizing Kitty’s father in the soi-disant Decimus Shuttle, 
that Jack or the curate might have perceived that there was 
something more extraordinary in this visit than they compre- 
hended, had not their attention been otherwise occupied. 

Yorke wore a very light gray morning suit, patent leather 
boots, an open collar and a neck handkerchief tied in a bow, 
French fashion. He carried a soft gray felt hat crushed 
under his arm, and his hands in his jacket pockets. He had 


KITTY^S FATHER. 


149 


shaved off his whiskers, leaving only a chin tuft and mous- 
tache ; his complexion was noticeably changed, the sallow tint 
suggesting a bilious temperament, with which the dull de- 
spondency of his expression harmonized admirably. He 
looked at Jack and then at me, with the same indifference as 
he looked at the ceiling and the panels on the wall. 

“ Ah ! I hope we don’t intrude, Mr. Sherridan,” said the 
curate, stopping at the sight of the spread table, his elbows 
nipping his side, the forearms raised, one hand holding his 
hat, the other extended at a right angle with his wrist. “ I 
should be so sorry if we are putting you to any inconveni- 
ence.” 

Jack replied with a deprecatory gesture, and motioning his 
visitors to seat themselves, himself took a chair. 

Yorke plumped himself down, and Mr. Shepherd, with more 
circumspection, was about to accommodate himself, when his 
eye fell upon me for the first time, and joyful surprise beamed 
on his face. “ It is Mr. Holderness, I declare : this is mdeed 
an unexpected pleasure ! ” He gave me his cold, damp fin- 
gers to shake, while Yorke looked on with a shade of contempt 
in his apathetic face, and then turning to Jack, said in the 
mildly gay tone he might have employed in addressing a 
Sunday-school class : 

“Now I have to explain to you, Mr. Sherridan, the remark- 
able circumstances which have occasioned this visit. In the 

first place you must know ” He held his right forefinger 

on his left thumb to tick off the first circumstance, when Yorke 
interrupted. 

“ Young man,” said he, with an unmistakable American 
twang in his voice, “ you can shut off, right there. If there’s 
any apologies to be ciphered up I reckon I’m here to cipher 
’em. Your name, I believe, is John V. Sherridan, sir,” he con- 
tinued, glancing at a card he had drawn from his pocket, and 
turning to Jack. 

“ It is,” replied Jack, entering at once into the spirit of his 
visitors. 

“ I am Decimus Shuttle, pig-dealer, Chicago, and I have 
come here to speak to you on a matter of business. If you 
hitch on. I’ll open up ; if you are otherwise disposed. I’ll clear 
out and give you no further trouble. Which is it to be ? ” 

“ I hitch on,” said Jack, with perfect gravity. 

“ I understand that you are the proprietor of the parsonage 
house at St. Botolph’s.” 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


1 


150 


. “ Quite correct.” 

“ Well, sir, I just want to hire that house.” 

“ For business purposes ?” asked Jack, with the slightest 
indication of mirth in the angle of his eye. 

“ If you mean do I intend to turn the house into a bacon 
factory, sir, I can answer you straight, no. On the other f 
hand, I cannot say that I intend to incarcerate myself in that 
house with a view to the wild enjoyment of pleasure. Do 
you require further particulars ? ” 

“ A little explanation will be advisable perhaps.” 

“ Sir,” said Yorke, resting his elbows on his knees and fix- 
ing his lack-lustre eyes on Jack, “you would not think, to 
look at me, that I am one of the most excitable men in the 
United States ; to realize the fact you ought to see meat 
home in the height of the pickling season. When I tell you 
that last fall I barrelled fifteen thousand hogs, personally 
conducting them from the live freight cars to their last home 
in the export cases, and superintending every department of 
the business from the sticking office to the counting-house, you 
will allow that I must have had a considerably lively time ; 
and you will not be surprised to hear that on taking over the 
business of P. Cassidy I fell sick in the attempt to run the 
two concerns under similar supervision. When the medical 
man in my employ took me in hand he said, ‘ Decimus Shuttle, 
you’ve been killing hogs for ten years ; now it’s the hogs’ 
turn and they’re going to kill you. If you go on at this rate 
you’ll be as dead as hams in six months.’ ‘This is dis- 
heartening, doctor,’ said I, ‘ just after taking over Cassidy’s 
concern and a three years’ contract for special middles just 
signed. It’s throwing away half a million dollars in a man- 
ner of speaking.’ ‘Well,’ said he, ‘ if you prefer pig-stick- 
ing to dissolution, your only chance of gratification 's to take 
six months’ complete rest and withdraw yourself from all ex- 
citing influences.’ The advice was reasonable, and having 
paid for it, I made up my mind to profit by it. The first 
thing was to clear out of America, where the very sound of a 
locomotive bell would make me spring out of bed in my sleep 
with the notion that another batch of hogs was being run 
into the depot. I arrived at Liverpool, and inquiring there 
for some spot free from exciting influences, I was told that I 
rnight find Chester, at this season, suitable to my tastes. De- 
termined to do the thing thoroughly, I put the same question 
about when I reached Chester, asking if any particular resi- 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


151 

dence could be recommended as being rather more lonesome 
than the general run of residences. I was told that I should 
find your parsonage house about as lonesome as anything 
around. I hired a four-wheeled carriage with an aged horse 
to make the journey as tranquilly as possible, and was car- 
ried at a gentle walk up the hill to the parsonage. I was not 
disappointed, in it. Frpm what I can make out it seems to 
be as peaceful a resting-place for a solitary man as anyone 
in my condition could wish for. This clerical gentleman was 
ambling on the sidewalk, and seeing me by the front gate, 
kindly introduced himself and gave me some satisfactory par- 
ticulars with regard to the house,, and informed me where I 
should learn whether it was to be hired or not.” 

“I had heard from Mr. Feverell that you washed to sell 
the old place,” Mr. Shepherd explained. 

“We called on Mr. Feverell— this gentleman being good 
enough to accompany me,— and he offered to communicate 
with you, but to save time I preferred to communicate with 
you myself. And now, sir, if you can tell me whether you 
care to ht me have the house for a term of three months or 
not, we vvill conclude the transaction right here.” 

“ Naturally you wish to take the house furnished as it is ? ” 
said Jack dubiously. 

The whole block as it stands.” 

“Entering into immediate possession ? ” 

“ Move my trunks up from the hotel to-morrow — that sur- 
prises you, I guess,” Yqrke added, detecting a smile On Jack’s 
face.. • 

“Not at all. On the contrary, your wish appeals to my 
fellow-feeling; for I took this house under similar condi- 
tions.” 

“ What a peculiar coincidence to be exclaimed 

Mr. Shepherd, raising his hands and letting them fall gently 
on his knees. 

“Well, Mr. Shuttle,” said Jack rising, “ I certainly wish 
to dispose of the vicarage ; but whether it is to my interest to 
let it for a short term I must leave to the decision of my 
agent, Mr. Feverell.” . 

“ Price is no object, you understand, sir, and I am prepared 
to place any reasonable sum in the hands of your agent as 
security.” 

“That is a matter which he will arrange with you if he 
thinks it advisable to let.” . 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


iS2 

“ Right, sir ; he will find me at the Rainbow Hotel till 
three, afternoon, to-niorrow ; and if I can’t have the parson- 
age, he may fix me up with something else in the locality. 
Something in this way might do,” he said, addressing me 
for the first time, as the gushing curate seized Jack on his 
way towards the door and poured out his pent-up sentiments. 
“ It might suit if it wasn’t for the noise of that stream.” He 
cast one more glance round the room, and, his eyes resting 
on Kitty’s portrait for a moment, turned to me with peculiar 
significance as he added, “ Silence, you understand, is just 
life to me in my precarious condition, and there’s a good 
deal hangs on this life of mine.” 

He could scarcely have reminded me more plainly that 
Kitty’s life-long happiness depended on my guarding his 
secret. 

Jack accompanied his visitors to the front door, whilst I, 
left alone in the room endeavored to collect my wits, that my 
agitation might not be observed by Jack when he returned. 

The Reverend Crawley Shepherd had the talk mostly to 
himself now ; the oily flow of his voice was only broken now 
and then by Jack’s short and repressively cold responses. 
Outside, he recollected that he had not said good-bye to 
“ dear Mr. Holderness,” and back he came with impulsive 
haste and his shining face melting with warm geniality, to 
give me his flabby hand and express the gladness of his 
heart in having met me once again. 

“You must come and see mein my little home at Rose 
Cottage,” he added gaily, “ and I shall be so pleased to see 
you, for I have all the day at my disposal now, the new vicar 
having his own curates and not requiring my services. And 
you must bring dear Mr. Sherridan with you — what a fine, 
noble, handsome young man ! ” lowering his voice, but not 
to such a degree that his encomiums could be lost on Jack, 
who was passing a window with Yorke, “ and you must bring 
Miss Kitty with you also,” here he raised his eyebrow with 
an arch roll of his fishy blue eye, as much as to say that he 
could be a gay dog at times, “ and we shall be so happy all 
together with a nice cup of tea. But I must not keep my 
worthy Mr. Shuttle waiting — Good-hyt^'" and jerking t!:!s 
farewell out as though from the very bottom of his heart, he 
tripped off with his gloves and umbrella held up well in front 
of him. 

“ Well, Dick,” said Jack, with a short laugh, as he returned 


KITTY'S FATHER, 


153 


to the room, “ weVe had some odd specimens of humanity 
in the form of visitors to-day, and no mistake.” He threw 
himself in the easy-chair by the window, and thrusting his 
hands in his pockets, looked out with a cloud gathering on 
his face. Then turning to me with creased brows, he said : 

“ I think that’s about the most despicable type of man 
that exists, don’t you, Dick ? ” 

“Well, you see. Jack,” I replied, my old feeling for Kitty’s 
father impelling me to say a word in his defence, “ one 
must not expect too much of a pig-dealer.” 

“ Oh, Shuttle ! ” he exclaimed, his brow expanding, and a 
smile playing over his lips. “ I rather like that fellow. He’s 
amusing, at any rate, and a decent, honest sort of man too, I 
should say, by the look of him. But, by Jupiter, he’s a rum 
one; justifies all the Yankee yarns I’ve heard. It was hard 
to believe that he really meant what he said. It would be a 
risky thing to put such an incident in a play, but in a book 
the critics would at once declare the whole character over- 
drawn.” 

It struck me also that Yorke had overacted his part, 
“ clowned it,” as the actors say. 

“ One doesn’t meet Chicago pig-dealers every day,” I ven- 
tured to suggest. 

“That’s true. After all, no character in fiction is so'-im- 
probable as those we meet in real life. And Shuttle’s per- 
fectly consistent in his thoroughness. But I wasn’t thinking 
of him. It’s that beastly curate that stirs up my bile. A 
fawning, cowering brute, with something of the slimy, sticky 
reptile in him. He’s not pleasant even as a study ; you 
can’t laugh at him, for the feeling that he is something more 
than a mere idiot.” 

“ That was Kitty’s impression.” 

“ I know. That is perhaps why I dislike him. It may be 
that I am prejudiced ; ” he lifted his eyebrows, looking through 
the window again. Then after a moment’s silence, he turned 
to me, saying, “ Did you hear Strong’s remark when he caught 
sight of him ? Something about the devil appearing when 
he was called.” 

“ Just so, and that just after he had been speaking of some 
one he suspected as the purloiner of the missing will.” 

“Jack,” said I eagerly, “ do you think the curate did it ? ” 

“ M — no,” he replied slowly, with the air of one who had 
already pondered the subject. “ Divide the pros and cons, 


154 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


the cons have it. In the first place the curate’s too feeble, 
physically and morally, to perpetrate a crime of that magni- 
tude. Then there’s the absence of motives. Five hundred 
pounds, which is the utmost that was stolen (with the will, 
probably) would not pay for the loss of a comfortable berth, 
with expectations, in the vicarage. Moreover, I am inclined 
to think that he is not the man the admiral suspects. For, 
if you remember, he led us to understand pretty clearly that 
we might discover whom it is he suspects by a visit to the 
Cedars. Well the curate is the last person in the world we 
are likely to see there ; no one in the world could be more 
antipathetic to a man of Strong’s character than that servile, 
truckling Crawley Shepherd.” 

“ We shall see,” said I, after a little reflection. 

“ Yes ; and I am eager to go over to the Cedars on. that 
account. This mystery is beginning to fascinate me. It’s 
like a chess problem. Harking back to the admiral’s obser- 
vation upon devils, I’m disposed to put another construction 
on it. I have found that the thought of one unpleasant 
character generally conjures up another bete noir. The ad- 
miral must have known Shepherd a long while, and it’s pos- 
sible, if not probable, that his ideas, turning from the man 
he suspects had just lighted on the other object of his dislike 
when Shepherd came in sight.” 

I agreed to this supposition, but my fear prevented another 
deduction. What if the admiral had recognized Bob Yorke 
in the fly as well as Crawley Shepherd ! What if we found 
Kitty’s father an accepted visitor at The Cedars when we 
went there ! 

Let us go and find the admiral,” said Jack rising, *‘we 
may be able to draw him yet.” 

But when we went out the old man was not to be seen. 
Either he had failed to catch anything in that place, or he 
had gone off to avoid encountering a man he abominated. 

“ So much the better,” said Jack. “ We can drop in our 
lines and smoke in peace.” 


KITTY^S FATHER 


155 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

A LETTER FROM KITTY. 

I WAS glad of the opportunity our silent occupation afforded 
to devote my thoughts to the events of the afternoon. The 
possibility that Shepherd had committed the crime at the 
vicarage was like a rift in the leaden sky exciting a hope of 
better times to come. If Yorke could be freed from the sus- 
picion of murder, I felt that the greater part of my anxiety 
and trouble would be removed. It is true that shifting the 
responsibility of that crime from his shoulders would leave 
him still burdened with the grave offence of robbery ; but 
robbery appeared to me a trivial affair in comparison with 
the hideous crime of murder. Incomprehensible as his con- 
duct was, it seemed to me out of all probability that he could 
meditate taking up his abode in the vicarage if he had com- 
^ mitted a murder there. That indicated a callous state of 
feeling that precluded the possession of all human sentiment ; 
whereas he had proved beyond doubt that he entertained a 
very strong feeling of paternal affection. But then again, if 
he really loved Kitty, why should he jeopardize her happi- 
ness by continuing a course of crime and expose himself 
to detection in a manner which on the face of it was most 
reckless and foolhardy. If he had no means of existence 
except by robbery, surely, I thought, he might exercise his 
unhappy vocation in some place where he would be less open 
to suspicion. No reason, no hypothesis, could dispel my 
conviction that he was carrying on a desperate system of 
robberies. I could now account for his intention to take the 
vicarage for a certain time only by the supposition that 
it was to serve him as a headquarters from which to make 
depredatory operations, and a depot for the plunder obtained 
by such burglaries as those in which he had been concerned 
at Birkenhead. That he had already made a considerable 
amount of money by this business was obvious ; and it was 
equally evident to me that he had laid his plans for a still 
more extensive system of plunder. 

“ Before long,” I said to myself, “ Chester will be pillaged 


KITTY'S FATHER, 


156 

just as Birkenhead was a few weeks back, and every morning 
I shall open the paper in fear and trembling, with the expec- 
tation of finding another outrage announced.’^ 

And now, my thoughts flying off in another direction, it 
struck me that Yorke had not got the will, or that, if he had 
found it in the sandal-wood box, he must certainly have 
destroyed it, with a view to enriching Jack as soon as he 
knew that he was engaged to Kitty ; otherwise, having her 
welfare at heart, he would have adopted the simple means I 
suggested of returning the will to clear himself from sus- 
picion. Then it occurred to me that, seeing their engage- 
ment broken, and no prospect of their coming together again, 
he had resolved to make a fortune for her that might counter- 
balance, to some extent, the loss she had suffered by not 
marrying Jack, and that he had taken to this dreadful trade 
for her sake. “ But, alas ! ” thought I, “ it is a legacy of 
shame that you are leaving your daughter. Bob Yorke, and 
nothing more ; for she will never touch a penny of your ill- 
gotten gains, and her life will be forever embittered by the 
reflection that it was her need which first suggested these 
criminal measures to your mind.” 

This put me in mind of the bank-notes Yorke had given me. 
Excepting those which I had given Cooper on the 12 th of 
June, all were still in my possession, for I should not have 
dared to put a single one in circulation, had I needed money 
ever so much, for fear the numbers had been taken by the 
bankers from whom old Mr. Sherridan obtained them, and I 
made up my mind that when I found an opportunity I would 
give them back to Y orke. “ That will convince him,” thought I, 
that we have not profited by his dishonesty (except in the 
matter of ;^5o handed over in innocence to Cooper), and do 
not intend to soil our hands with such ill-gotten gains ; which 
may lead him to see the folly of building up a fortune for 
Kitty which she will not accept.” I reflected also that I 
should be less likely to get myself into trouble if I gave up 
these notes, for which I had no safer hiding-place than an 
old piccolo case in a corner of my portmanteau. 

This medley of suppositions and considerations, which I 
have tried to bring into some sort of consecutive harmony 
(but not very successfully, I fear) so engrossed my thoughts 
that I failed to catch a single fish all the afternoon, which is 
not to be wondered at, for I found, on our return, that I had 
left my box of worms at home, and must have been anrlinp- 


AV TTY'S FATHER. 


157 


all the time with nothing whatever on my hook; however, 
the loss was not felt, for Jack had taken five fine trout, which 
we ate for dinner, and an excellent dish they made. 

Jack made no allusion to the events which had exercised 
my mind to such a degree, either because fishing had driven 
them out of his thoughts or because he considered lighter 
subjects more suitable for discussion at table, but, when the 
meal was over, he ordered the trap to be brought round, and 
asked me if I would go with him to Chester. I readily 
agreed, having had quite enough of my own company in the 
afternoon, and accordingly we drove into Chester, where we 
had the good fortune to catch Mr. Feverell, the house agent, 
just as he was leaving his office. 

“Good-evening, Mr. Sherridan,’’ said he, coming to the 
side of the trap with a smile ; “ have you seen the American 
gentleman who wishes to take the vicarage ? ” 

“ Yes ; that’s precisely the matter I’ve come over to speak 
to you about,” Jack replied. “ What do you advise ” 

“ Well, sir, I don’t know Mr. Shuttle, and it seems he 
wishes to take immediate possession. The application is, to 
say the least of it, unusual.” 

“ But not unprecedented. I’m not in a position to take 
exception to anyone who wishes to take immediate posses- 
sion.” 

“ True, sir ; you knocked your affair off sharp enough, cer- 
tainly. What reference does Mr. Shuttle offer, may I ask ? ” 

“ Dollars. He seems disposed to accept any reasonable 
terms for rent and security.” 

“ Then I should say snap, sir. There are two or three big 
sales coming on in the next month — bad time to sell the fur- 
niture. Recent events make it most unadvisable to offer the 
house for sale just now, and there’s absolutely no chance at 
all of finding a tenant who would take it on lease. If the 
house were inhabited for two or three months a great deal of 
the prejudice against it would be removed, and then if this 
American gentleman is willing to pay a good, high price ” 

“ It isn’t a question of money, Feverell, understand that. 
I want to get rid of the place, and if it’s an advantage to let 
it to Mr. Shuttle for a few months, it’s only fair to make the 
terms easy. Let him have it, and ask no more than you 
would care to give yourself.” 

“ I understand you, Mr. Sherridan. I will call upon the 
gentleman to-morrow morning — he left his address — and 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


158 

arrange the affair according to your wish. Good-evening, 
gentlemen.” 

“ Now that’s knocked off, Dick,” said Jack, as we left the 
agent, “ what shall we do with ourselves now we are in this 
gay city .^ ” 

Anything less gay than a back street in Chester on an 
ordinary evening cannot well be imagined ; so I told him I 
saw nothing there to detain us. 

“ Don’t you, Dick ? ” said he, affectionately, giving a gentle 
intonation to his voice. “ For me the place is full of pleasant 
memories. My heart beats quicker when I come into the 
dear old town — it seems to me that I must see Kitty some- 
where between the lodgings and the theatre trotting along 
with that sedate, earnest look of hers, her calm eyes ready to 
flash into light and laughter at the sight of a friend, like still 
pools when the breeze comes with a glint of sunlight. We’ll 
put up the mare, and walk over the old ground again, at any 
rate.” 

We left the trap at the Albion, and strolled silently through 
the town. Jack, perhaps, not wishing to betray his feelings 
further, and I being somewhat depressed with a sense of 
guiltiness in allowing this generous friend to foster hopes that 
1 felt sure could never be realized. We strolled up to the 
theatre, and, finding that an opera company was playing 
“ Dorothy ” there, Jack bought a couple of stalls, and we 
went in. How familiar every part of the house was to my 
eyes ! Yet how strange to be sitting there in the stalls in- 
stead of in my old chair in the orchestra ! The opera was 
not badly played, though the first fiddle set my teeth on edge, 
but after one act we both agreed we had heard enough. 

“It won’t do after Kitty,” said Jack. 

On Saturday morning we heard from Mr. Feverell that Mr. 
Shuttle had signed his agreement, paid a deposit as security, 
and taken possession of the vicarage ; and now it was too 
late, I asked myself, whether I ought not to have made some 
attempt to prevent this result. However, it was done, and no 
regrets would make up for my want of forethought. 

The Sunday morning post brought a note from Admiral 
Strong, saying that he and his daughter hoped to see us on 
Monday to lunch ; and also a letter from Kitty, in which the 
dear girl said : 

“ I read your letters over and over again, and when they 
are read I shut my eyes and try to see and hear all you de- 


KITTY 'S FA THER. 


159 


scribe, and if I were an artist I think I could paint a faithful 
picture of the room you admire and the garden where you 
hear the weir from the -vision that comes before me. I be- 
lieve I could show more in my picture even than you tell. 
The hospitable friend, for instance, to whom you refer in 
such slight, vague and mysterious terms — I think I could 
paint him walking beside you along the hollyhock path with 
a delightful cigar sticking out under a fine, long golden mous- 
tache, and, lest the portrait failed to be a speaking one, I 
could write underneath, “ This is yohn Vernon SherridanT 
But why this mystery, dear ? why this silence with regard to 
one whom it is pleasant to talk about ? Because I cannot be 
his wife, must we never even mention his name ? Am I still 
the little Kitty who cried to be left at home when you went 
to the theatre, that you think it necessary to say nothing 
about the friend whose society must be your chief pleasure ? 
Indeed, I could cry now, but with vexation, to be considered 
a child when I feel myself to be such a staid and reasonable 
woman. Faith, ye don’t know the power of strength that I 
have, or ye wouldn’t be treating me this way at all.” 

Further on she wrote: “We are doing such good business 
that our stay here is likely to be prolonged. I am studying 
Lydia Languish for Monday week, when the ‘ Rivals ’ is to 
be put up. Good as the part is, I cannot get up any real 
enthusiasm in it. I do not feel that I mnst play it, nor that 
pit-a-pat, nervous delightful energy that I felt in a part which 
perhaps you would not like me to allude to. Do tell, my dear, 
if your friend is writing another play. I would give ten 
years of my life (say the eighth ten) to know all that you do 
7iot tell me.” 

The whole letter was written in such a buoyant spirit, and 
indicated such a cheerful resignation to her lot, that I thought 
it advisable to hand it over to Jack. He had given the letter 
to me, recognizing the writer by the address, with a hungry, 
envious look in his eyes, like a poor famished creature offer- 
ing a tempting dish denied to him, and he took it from me 
with an eager delight. 

“ My poor friend,” thought I, “ you will find little enough 
in that to satisfy your cravings.” 

“ You see how reasonable she is,” I said, as he turned over 
the second page. 

“ So much the better,” cried he with joy. “ The more 


i6o 


KITTY^S FA THER. 


reasonable she is the less likely is it that she will stick to 
her unreasonable scruples.” 

He read the letter through to the end, and then turning to 
me, his face aglow with happiness, said : 

“ Dick, Tve the greatest mind in the world to run over to 
Dublin this very day.” 

“ Great Heavens, Jack,” I exclaimed, horrified by the 
result of my ill-considered action, “ you cannot possibly do 
that,” and thinking of no better reason to deter him I added, 
“ Remember w'e are engaged to lunch with Admiral Strong 
to-morrow.” 

“Ten thousand engagements should not hold me if I were 
only sure of that which this letter bids me believe.” 

“ If it makes you believe that Kitty’s resolution wavers, I 
have done a wrong thing. Jack, to show you the letter. For 
I know she will never be your wife.” 

He regarded me fixedly, seeing that I was terribly in 
earnest, and then hope again predominating over the fear I 
had raised, he said cheerfully, 

“Well, time will show. But hang their good business, 
there’s another week or two to wait.” 

Again I asked myself if in common honesty I ought not to 
tell him what I knew about Kitty’s father, rather than suffer 
him to cherish illusions that must be destroyed. But the 
possibility that I had deceived myself, and that Admiral 
Strong had really discovered the thief who had murdered and 
robbed the vicar, deterred me. 

“ A few days’ delay can do no great harm,” said I, to my- 
self, “ it will be time enough to confess all when I am con- 
vinced that the admiral’s suspicions do not clear Kitty’s 
father.” 

I could give my mind to nothing from that moment till 
the next morning when we were fairly on the road to the 
Cedars. 


KITTY^S FA THER. 


i6i 


CHAPTER XXV. 

STRANGE VISITORS AT THE CEDARS. 

We took out our valises, and little Jimmy drove off with 
the traps as Admiral Strong himself opened the gate of the 
Cedars to us. 

The old gentleman greeted Jack with every mark of satis- 
faction, and shaking my hand cordially he said : 

“ I’m particularly pleased to see you also, Mr. Holderness,” 
(it was the very first time he had addressed me by my proper 
name,) “ and the more so because I perceived you accepted 
the invitation without much relish for it — which was natural 
enough, seeing that we haven’t rubbed together long enough 
to wear off our corners. If you’ll believe me,” he added, 
turning to Jack, “ it was five years before your grandfather 
and I ever spoke a civil word to each other — five years of 
continual warfare, you may say, and by the end of that time 
we deemed ourselves such natural enemies that we agreed to 
build up a brick wall in place of the open fence that divided 
my paddock from his orchard, in order that we might not be 
unnecessarily plagued with the sight of each other. It was 
the first time that we had ever been in accord upon anything, 
and you may imagine the result.” 

“The brick wall was not built,” said Jack. 

“ It was not, and from thenceforward we were the best 
friends' ’n the world. For you see we had found out all that 
was detestable in each other’s characters, and every discov- 
ery after that was to our common advantage. The moral of 
which is, sir,” said he, turning to me, “ that having seen me 
at my worst I hope you may find something now in old Jo 
Strong to make your visit in his quarters agreeable.” 

I replied to this civil speech by telling him as bluntly as I 
could that I preferred his society to none at all ; and that I 
hoped by conforming to each other’s humor, we should in 
time arrive at a happy mean between rudeness on the one 
hand and servility on the other. 

“ We’ve made a good beginning at any rate,” said he, with 


i 62 


AV TTY'S FA THEF. 


a laugh, “ and now weVe dipped our ensigns, we need trouble 
ourselves no more on questions of etiquette. Tell me, Mr. 
Jack, who the dickens is this fellow you’ve given me for a 
neighbor.” 

“ You must have seen him the other day when he drove 
up to my place with Mr. Shepherd.” 

“ I like him none the better for that, nor for his being a 
millionaire neither (as I’m told he is). Have you known him 
long ? ” 

Jack briefly related what had passed at our interview, and 
explained the conditions on which the vicarage had been let 
to Mr. Shuttle. 

“ Well,” said the admiral, “ it may be all right ; but he’s 
too thick with Shepherd to please me, and I wish that party 
wall had been run up at the bottom of my paddock, and 
coped with broken bottles into the bargain. Did they say 
they had struck up an acquaintance on the day they came to 
you.” 

“ That is what I understood.” 

“ Then I don’t believe it. Why, Shepherd, I am told, hasn’t 
left him since he came to the house on Friday night. They’re 
living together there like a couple of — brothers.” 

“ Surely, sir,” I ventured to observe, “ you have no reason 
to doubt this American gentleman’s honesty because of his 
intimacy with the Rev. Mr. Shepherd.” 

“ I am not aware, sir,” returned the admial sternly, “ that 
I said a word about the honesty of either one or t’other. 
Without calling your neighbor a horse-thief, you may wish 
to keep him on the other side of a brick wall, I hope.” 

We now approached the house, a solid, square, red-brick 
building of the Queen Anne style, but more cheerful than the 
vicarage by being more open, and the neatly kept lawn in 
front having a bright border of flow'ers about it. Up to this 
we had met no one but the admiral ; but in passing one of 
the open windows we heard men’s voices and a loud laugh, 
which caused the old gentleman to cast an uneasy glance that 
way and quicken his pace, as I thought. 

Obviously there was company staying in the house, and 
I foresaw that the difficulty would be consequently greater 
of fixing upon the one suspected by the admiral. 

He led us through the hall which was tastefully decorated 
with flowers and ferns and up the wide stairs. In an angle 


KITTY 'S FA THER. T 63 

of the broad landing hung an ensign, and more flowers were 
arranged beneath it. 

“ Trophies of the past and present,” said I. 

“ Yes,” he replied, “ and there’s a corner there with noth- 
ing in it, w'hich is woefully suggestive of the future. We’re 
vastly fond of flowers, as you see,” said he to Jack. “ They 
are Nell’s delight, and it’s my chief pleasure to grow ’em for 
her. It’s an odd taste for an old sea dog like me, but I don’t 
know how I should get on without ’em.” 

He took us to our rooms, which communicated, and having 
assured himself that we had everything necessary for our 
comfort he left us. 

“ The poor old chap seems to be in trouble, Dick,” said 
Jack, coming into my room as I was brushing up. “ I’m 
afraid he has guests less welcome than we.” 

“ That’s not to be wondered at, I replied, as he led us to 
expect we are to find here the man he suspects of having 
stolen the will.” 

“There’s something else, I fear. We shall I see. Xl^ome 
on, Dick.” 

The symptoms of uneasiness were still more obvious in the 
admiral’s face, as coming from a side room he met us at the 
foot of the stairs ; and the expression of subdued irritation 
and constraint only disappeared when we went out into the 
garden and he caught sight of his daughter Helen. She was 
seated in the shadow of the cedar beside a thin, bent, little 
old lady, and hearing our voices she rose and came to meet 
us. 

“ My Nell,” said the admiral, introducing her to us with 
a touch of pride and fondness in his voice. 

And indeed the old gentleman had reason to be proud of 
her, for besides being strikingly handsome, she had an open, 
frank, and amiable expression in her face that made you like 
her at once. She gave us her hand with a few cordial words 
of greeting, looking us straight in the face. A pink sunshade 
threw color upon her cheek ; nevertheless as our eyes met I 
detected in hers the signs which I had seen more than once 
in my dear Kitty’s after crying. She led us to the bent old 
lady whom she introduced as Miss Forsyth, and in her 
wrinkled face too there was the unmistakable trace of tears. 
The gentlemen were not in sight “ Certainly there must be 
something amiss in the house,” said I to myself. And the 
trouble seemed to extend even to the servants, for the girl 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


164 

who came to announce lunch seemed scared, and spoke in a 
tone as though she feared to be heard. 

“ Now/’ thought I, as I gave my arm to Miss Forsyth, 
“ we shall see if the rest of the visitors are in the same con- 
dition.” But on entering the dining-room I perceived to my 
astonishment that covers were laid for five only. 

“ We hoped to give you the company of two old friends, 
Colonel Dysart and his brother,” said the admiral as we seated 
ourselves, “ but at the last moment — circumstances upset 
the arrangement.” 

This explained the absence of the two gentlemen whose 
voices we heard on our arrival, and it was evident by the look 
of displeasure on the admiral’s face and a certain embarrass- 
ment on the part of his daughter and Miss Forsyth, that the 
circumstances he referred to were of an unpleasant character. 
It seemed to me a breach of good manners for them to leave 
in this unceremonious manner immediately on our arrival, 
and I said to myself that if the Colonel and his brother were 
men of that sort we could enjoy ourselves quite as much with- 
out their society as with it. And indeed we got on very well, 
thanks chiefly to Jack’s admirable tact and good-nature, which 
were never so active as when surrounding conditions tended 
to depress his friends. Without the slightest apparent effort 
he found interesting subjects of conversation which served 
rather to draw us out than to display his own ability as a talker, 
though what he said was always bright and mirthful. Under 
these pleasant influences our constraint wore away, our re- 
past, which had threatened to be a dismal business, passed 
off in gayety, we ate heartily and laughed heartily, and quite 
lost sight of Black Care, which, undoubtedly, haunted the 
house. 

After lunch we passed into the drawing-room, where the 
first thing that attracted Jack’s attention was a beautifully 
finished little model of Admiral Strong’s gun which stood on 
a side table. 

“ Ah, this,” said Jack, earnestly, “ is what I wanted to see. 
Every step in the direction of national defence is a national 
gain.” 

“What, Mr. Jack,” cried the admiral, “you can give a 
thought to such matters as that } ” 

“ I should be a careless fool if I didn’t ; for surely the 
most important thing, when one has a happy home, is to 
know how to keep it.” 


KITTY’S FATHER. 


165 

“Well, hang me,’’ exclaimed the admiral, forgetting the 
presence of the ladies for the first time, as he grasped Jack’s 
hand and gave him a clap on the shoulder, “ hang me if you’re 
not a man after my own heart. It’s refreshing to find a man 
who can think seriously upon serious matters, when the whole 
nation seems utterly indifferent to its own welfare. Was 
there ever such a condition of affairs in this country as exists 
now ? I’ve been reading old Pepys’ diary, and I verily be- 
lieve our defences are in a more rotten state than they were 
in his time. For here, as I know, are bribery and corruption 
in one department, which slips millions into the pockets of 
rascals who get ships afloat which were better left in the 
stocks, guns that burst after a couple of rounds, and the like ; 
and this government, which calls itself Tory, is so careless 
of our interests that it actually promotes a captain who has 
twice run his ship aground, and winks at a pair of similar 
loggerheads who worry their crews into mutiny. And is the 
army better? Not a whit that I can see; for gun-locks 
jamb, and bayonets double up ; and two crack regiments 
revolt because their officers think more of dawdling about at 
clubs and race-courses than keeping their men in good dis- 
cipline. And who cares ? Why, not one man in the million, 
so far as I can judge by the feeble outcry that is raised 
against these notorious abuses.” 

“The ammunition is introduced here,” Jack observed, to 
give a turn to the admiral’s thoughts which were working 
him up into fury. 

“ You’re right. Jack ; but come out with me into the orchard ; 
I have a working model there, and you shall see it in action.” 

“ You will be careful, won’t you, dear ? ” said his daughter, 
in a tone of anxiety. 

“ Aye, aye, Nell. I’ve used none but blank cartridges 
since we had the ill-luck to bring down the top of the church 
spire. Are you for a little music, Holderness ? ” he asked, 
going towards the door with his arm linked in Jack’s. 

“ Yes, sir,” said I, “ but here’s an instrument that I 
prefer to yours,” and I seated myself before the piano, which 
had been tempting me from the moment I entered the room. 
It was a superb instrument, a grand, and one of Erard’s 
best. “The world is better and happier for such inven- 
tions as this,” thought I, as I ran my fingers over it. Then 
I rose and begged Miss Strong to play to me. 

“ I want you to hear me play,” she said gravely, and seat- 


i66 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


ing herself, she took up the first piece of music that came to 
hand and played it to me. 

“ Admirable,’’ said I. 

She nodded and smiled, without taking her fingers from 
the keys, and then went through one of Beethoven’s sonatas 
from memory. 

“ Excellent,” said I, “ that andante movement again, 
please.” 

She repeated the movement, and at my request played one 
or two fugues from a book of Bach that I had caught sight 
of. She listened quietly to my praise of her performance, 
and then turning on the stool and facing me, she said : 

“ Now tell me, Mr. Holderness, if you were going to give 
a concert, would you engage me to play a solo ? ” 

She spoke so earnestly, and with such evident desire to 
know the truth that I could not tell her a direct falsehood, 
even to spare her pain. 

“ Well,” said I, “ nowadays one expects so much of a 
pianiste.” 

“And there is so much talent of a higher order than 
mine ? ” 

“ I don’t say that,” said I. 

“ But I think you mean it,” said she, smiling. “ And it is 
my own opinion. But it’s so hard to know oneself when 
one’s friends are too kind.” 

“ After all, the public is a better judge of its own require- 
ments than a critic.” 

“ Ah, if I had thought of that,” said she, looking beyond 
me significantly, with a little laugh, “ I might have spared 
the critic.” 

Turning round to see what had suggested this observation, 
I perceived that Miss Forsyth had fallen asleep. 

“ Are you anxious to play in public ? ” I asked, presently. 

“ No. I suppose one must be ambitious to attain any real 
position in art. And I am not. Only it seemed to me a 
much more pleasant way of gaining a living than by teaching 
music to dull children.” 

She went on to question me about professional matters, 
and the payment of musicians, scarcely disguising the fact 
that she foresaw the necessity of earning money in this way. 
From musicians our discussion turned to actors, and she 
asked many questions about Kitty, whom she had seen play 


KITTY FA THER. 1 6 7 

in “ The Blue-stocking,” and whose private character her 
father had described with so much admiration. 

“ I wish she were here,” said she ; and this wish I heartily 
reciprocated ; for it seemed to me that no two young women 
were better suited to each other than these, by their unaffected 
candor, amiability, and the healthy tone of their disposi- 
tions. 

My thoughts were still dwelling on my dear Kitty, when a 
terrible explosion in the rear of the house caused the windows 
to shake, and Miss Forsyth to wake with a cry of terror. 

“ It’s papa’s gun,” said Miss Strong, with comparative 
calm, as she crossed the room to allay Miss Forsyth’s fears, 
“ I daresay it’s only something burst, but please, Mr. Hold- 
erness, see if papa and Mr. Sherridan are quite safe.” 

I ran out of the house, and finding my way by the smell 
of powder, and the column of smoke that hung over some 
distant trees, I reached the orchard, where, to my great relief, 
I saw Jack and the admiral moving about in the gray smoke 
that rolled towards me, with their proper number of limbs. 

“ What’s the matter,” I asked, panting for breath, as I came 
up to Jack, who, taking up his position at a respectful dis- 
tance from the machine gun, was standing with his hands in 
his pockets gravely regarding the admiral. 

“ Nothing much,” said he quietly, “ better not go nearer, 
old man ; it isn’t all over yet.” 

I looked with blinking eyes, in anticipation of another ex- 
plosion, towards the admiral, who was standing by his gun, 
an instrument that looked like a wheel without a rim. Jack 
explained that the spokes revolved round the hub which 
served as a magazine, and, that in passing a given point, the 
cartridges dropped into the evolving barrels which should be 
exploded in the direction of the enemy ; but that in conse- 
quence of some derangement of the mechanism, all the bar- 
rels had been fired at once, which, as he remarked, would 
have made it as unpleasant for friends in the rear of the gun 
as for foes in the front. At this moment the undaunted ad- 
miral turned a handle, and the same result was produced, 
all the barrels discharging at once in a revolving circle 
like a gigantic Catherine wheel. I waited just long enough to 
assure myself that the admiral was still whole, and then 
hastened back to the house to assure the ladies that no harm 
had happened. 

On turning the angle of the garden path suddenly, I ran 


i68 


KITTY’S FA THER, 


Up against a couple of gentlemen, who with equal haste were 
going towards the orchard. I apologized, but without a word 
in response they hurried on, leaving me there shaken and 
dumfoundered. It was obvious to me that Colonel Desart 
and his brother had not left the Cedars, for unquestionably 
they had just come from the house. 

I went into the drawing-room and explained to the ladies 
what had happened in the orchard ; but my thoughts were 
continually running upon the mystery of these two incom- 
prehensible gentlemen. When we were in our rooms dress- 
ing for dinner, I told Jack about this encounter. 

“ Yes, ” said he, quietly, “they came down to the field. I 
saw them.” 

“ But don’t you find something very mysterious in this 
affair ? ” I asked ; “ doesn’t it strike you that their behavior 
is rather unbecoming in her Majesty’s officers ? ” 

Jack burst into laughter. “ Well,” said he, when his mirth 
subsided, “ I suppose they are her Majesty’s officers, though 
I doubt if Colonel Dysart would care to be lumped in the 
same category with these two fellows. Why, you poor old in- 
nocent Dick,” he continued, looking at me incredulously, 
“ can’t you see what’s the matter here ? ” 

“ Not a bit.” 

“ Why, there’s an execution in the house, and the fellows 
who nearly knocked you off your pins are sheriff’s officers.” 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

THE admiral’s SUSPICIONS AND JACK’S. 

The doubt which lingered in my mind as to the accuracy 
of Jack’s explanation was dispelled by the admiral himself 
that night. The ladies had left us and we three men were 
settling down in the admiral’s snuggery to the enjoyment of 
our pipes and grog, when a burst of rude laughter came to 
our ears from the other side of the hall. Setting down his 
• glass with a look of vexation, the admiral glanced sharply 
at us, and seeing no surprise in our faces he shook his silvery 
curls ruefully and said : 

“ I see it’s no good trying to keep you in the dark any 
longer, and I don’t know why I should neither, as the cat 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


169 

must come out of the bag sooner or later. Besides which, I 
feel that I must open my heart to you, or you’ll take it I’ve 
but little faith in your friendship. Well, lads, there’s a 
couple of bumbailiffs in the house, and that’s the long and 
short of it.” 

Jack nodded, and the old gentleman continued : 

“ They got into the place before I was up, and presented 

me with their d d papers’ at the foot of the stairs out 

there when I came down. There was time to send off a 
despatch to Dysert in London, but I could find no means of 
sending a note to you at nine miles’ distance.” 

“ I’m glad of it,” said Jack ; “ but surely it would have been 
simpler to get the fellows out of the house at once.” 

“ To be sure, that was the notion that struck me at first ; 
but with women about, what sort of a fight could I have 
made of it single-handed ? ” 

We both laughed heartily at the admiral’s idea of ejecting 
the officers in this summary fashion ; but he, who regarded the 
matter from a more serious point of view, requested to know 
what means we should have employed in the circumstances : 
to which Jack replied that he should have discharged the 
debt for which the execution was put in. 

“ That’s easier said than done, Mr. Jack,” said the admiral, 
“ when the debt is over a couple of hundred and you can’t 
scrape up fifty.” 

“ You won’t deny me the common privilege of a friend, I 
hope,” said Jack. 

“I know what you mean. Jack; you’d let me have the 
money, I know that. But I’m resolved to let the law take 
its course, as these fellows say.” 

“ You have to think of your daughter.” 

“ Aye, aye — I don’t want to be reminded of that ; and 
there’s that poor old maid. Miss Forsyth, without a penny in 
the world or a friend, save us ! I have to think of her when- 
ever I cast my eye that way ! Nell and I can manage to 
rough it, but the Lord only knows if there’ll be enough left 
when the place is sold up to keep the old lady out of the 
workhouse.” 

“ But you will let her suffer rather than take a couple of 
hundred from my hands,” said Jack, with a touch of contempt 
in his voice. 

“ A couple of hundred won’t save the ship.” 

“ A couple of thousand, then — what is necessary.” 


170 


KITTY'S FA TIIER. 


“ No, Jack ; when it comes to the pinch you shall do some- 
thing for Miss Forsyth. But independence is more to me than 
ease and comfort, and my Nell’s of the same mind.” 

Jack turned in his chair impatiently, sending out great puffs 
of smoke. 

“ But, my dear sir,” I ventured to say, “ could you not ac- 
cept something as a loan.” 

“ No,” replied the admiral doggedly, stretching out his short 
legs and thrusting his hands deep in his pockets, “ I’ve had 
enough of loans. I begin to see that it’s little better than 
getting money under false pretences.” 

“ But not when you can give me some sort of security ; 
and if, as you let us know the other day, you are convinced 
that the will which entitled you to this money exists ” 

“ I’m more sure than ever that it exists ; but I’m almost 
equally, sure that it will be destroyed before ever we get a 
glimpse of it.” 

He was silent for a couple of minutes ; then changing his 
attitude he pushed the spirit-case and tobacco jar aside to 
make room for his arms on the table, and leaning forward he 
addressed Jack. 

‘‘You shall understand me, lad,” said he. “Obstinate I 
may be, and shall be, in guarding my independence. That’s 
a matter that concerns myself. But see. I’ll show you that 
it is not mere pig-headed perversity, w'hich makes me unyield- 
ing in this affair of a loan. There’s a man not a hundred 
miles from this room who has me under his thumb. At 
least that is his opinion. He’s bought up a lot of bills which 
I put into circulation when I felt sure my gun was going to 
bring me a fortune. He bought them without my knowledge 
to get me out of difficulties, spare me humiliation and pain. 
That’s how he puts it ; but the rascal’s got a better motive 
than that. He’s after my Nell,” with an angry thump on 
the table, “ and he hopes to frighten her into accepting his 
confounded hand by the prospect of bringing me to beggary 
through the bills he holds.” 

“ He must be a wealthy man.” 

“ Not a bit of it, according to his own showing he’s as poor 
as a church mouse.” 

“ Then his affection should be disinterested : since he 
knows that your daughter has no fortune, and that you are 
deeply in debt.” 

“ It looks like that to be sure, and that’s the aspect he 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


171 

wishes to put on it. But mark this, lad — that man has your 
grandfather’s will, and if he could make Nell his wife, it 
wouldn’t be long before he produced it, and he’d secure his 
share of the fortune by the bills he holds. If he don’t get 
Nell, he’ll destroy the will, and drain my blood to the last 

drop. He shall do it, and be d d to him. But not a drop 

shall he get that isn’t mine.” 

“ When did he buy up the bills ? ” asked Jack. 

“ I can’t tell you. I heard nothing about them till last 
week. He says he bought them ; but I don’t believe that. 
It’s more likely your grandfather bought them up, and this 
villain found them with the will.” 

“ Of course you have no proof that he has the will ? ” 

“ None but what the rascal has furnished in the hints he 
has dared to drop in talking to Nell. But there’s nothing in 
them to catch hold of — a slippery, cunning rascal.” 

“ Is that Miss Strong’s opinion ” 

“ Yes, thank God, Nell loathes him as fully as I do, and 
rather than be his wife, she would suffer all the misery that 
poverty can bring, and more.” 

“ Has she told him so ” 

“ No, he hasn’t given her the chance. He’s too sly for 
that. He’ll not give me the excuse for kicking him out into 
the street. He waits and watches, like some cat at the hole 
of a mouse. He knows the straits we’re in and bides his 
time till we’ve felt the prick of poverty and the need of 
money. There,” said he, with a groan as he dropped back 
in his chair, “ I’ve told you all I mean to tell. You under- 
stand my position and will plague me no more with your 
offers of help. And now, for mercy’s sake, sing us a comic 
song, Holderness, or let’s turn to spin yarns to get the taste 
of this stuff out of our mouths.” 


“Well, Jack,” said I when we were alone in our rooms, 
“ what do you make of the admiral’s suspicions ? ” 

“ They confirm mine,” he replied. “ Indeed, I can’t see 
any other deduction to be drawn from the facts.” 

“ And who is the man ‘ not a hundred miles from this 
room ” 

“The curate, beyond a doubt.” 

“ You believe he murdered your grandfather ? ” 

“ 1 don’t say that. I don’t think it. His character is not 


172 


KITTY^S FATHER. 


that of a murderer : I should say he lacked the physical 
courage to commit a great crime. But the more despicable 
crime, compassed by craft and perpetrated without risk, is 
what he certainly might be guilty of — judging his character, of 
course, from the admiral’s evidence. See the subtlety of the 
man — by marrying Miss Strong he precludes public exposure 
— for his daughter’s sake the admiral would hush up what 
suspicions might be provoked by the production of the will 
later on. No, I believe that he got a stronger man to do the 
murder, and is sharing the profits with that man.” 

“ And who,” I asked with creeping trepidation, “ who do 
you think that man is ? ” 

“ The man who calls himself Shuttle. I feel certain that 
man is not an American : I only doubted it before. They’re 
accomplices those two. I’d bet anything upon it.” 

Now that my suspicions were supported by the opinion of 
a man whose knowledge of character and quick perception 
commanded respect, I could no longer sustain a hope of 
Yorke’s innocence. “ It’s all too true,” I said to myself, “ my 
poor Kitty can never marry Jack.” 

“ If we could only force the rascal’s hand,” Jack murmured 
reflectively, as he wound his watch. 

“ Jack,” said I, “ you can do that, and at the same time 
dispose of your grandfather’s fortune in the way he would 
have had it disposed.” 

“ How ? ” he asked, looking at me in astonishment. 

“ By making Miss Strong your wife.” 

“ You are determined that I am not to marry Kitty,” said 
he with a smile of derision, and yet with a little quiver of the 
lips that betrayed his wavering confidence. 

Kitty will never be your wife,” I said, my voice breaking 
down under the emotion I felt. Then I pointed out Miss 
Strong’s advantages, and the equality which fitted them to 
be husband and wife. And I again pointed out the means 
of overcoming the money difficulty by this arrangement. 

“ I could settle that business in another way,” said he 
quietly. “ I might buy that famous gun.” 

“And ruin yourself ! ” I exclaimed, “perhaps do yourself a 
mortal injury.” 

“ I should only injure myself at any rate,” said he, “ where- 
as if I married a girl without love I might ruin her happiness 
for life and my own as well. Still,” he added, looking at 
the light with half-closed eyes and a smile taking the place 
of grave reflection — “ I will think of it, Dick. Good-night.” 


KITTY 'S FA THER. 


173 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

MY IRRATIONAL JEALOUSY AND WHAT IT LED TO. 

When I woke the next morning, I found Jack by my bed- 
side, fastening his cuff studs. 

“ Don’t be alarmed, Dick,” said he, with a laugh at my 
waking bewilderment, “ it isn’t late. I have a little bit of 
business to do before breakfast. Do you remember the ad- 
dress Feverell gave us of his private residence where he 
might be found out of office hours.” 

“ Edward Street.” 

“ Ah, thaPs it — couldn’t remember the name. We must 
get those fellows out of the house.” 

“ What, the curate and Mr. Shuttle ” 

“ No, the officers down below. Feverell will know how to 
do it. Of course you won’t say a word to old Strong about 
it.” 

I dropped off to sleep when he was gone, for I had lain 
awake the greater part of the night, thinking about Kitty and 
her father, and did not wake again till the servant brought 
the hot water to my door. It was past eight. 

As I glanced out of window in pulling up the blind, my 
eye fell upon Miss Strong and Jack, wh^were strolling across 
the lawn. He was removing the thorns from a rosebud, and 
she, with her head bent down, was smiling at something he 
said to her. He offered the rose, and she took it with a 
graceful inclination of the head, again smiling as he spoke ; 
then they passed out of my range of vision. This trifling 
incident caused me to sit down on the side of my bed and 
reflect with a painful sinking at my heart. Remembering our 
parting words overnight, I asked myself if Jack had come 
to the conclusion that it was best to act on my advice. He 
had said “ I will think of it ; ” was this the result of his medi- 
tation 1 Had my insistence prevailed ? Was he convinced 
at last that Kitty could not be his wife, that their difference 
of condition was an unsurpassable barrier to a happy union ? 
Had he perceived that Miss Strong would be a more suitable 


174 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


wife? Had he taken the resolution to engage himself to 
her that he might not be tempted by any recurring hope to 
overcome Kitty’s well-founded scruples ? I felt that if all 
these questions were answered in the' affirmative I ought to 
experience nothing but satisfaction ; for this course was the 
one I had advised him to take, the one which I had consid- 
ered best for all concerned ; nevertheless, I was wretched, 
not only because of Kitty’s loss, but because this sudden 
departure betokened a want of steadfastness in Jack’s char- 
acter which overthrew the admiration I had hitherto felt for 
him. 

“ And yet,” I said to myself, as I rose and began to dress, 
“ this sudden step is not inconsistent with his vigorous nat- 
ure. The moment a strong man is convinced that a thing 
should be done, he does it. From his rising so early to seek 
Feverell it is clear that he thought the matter out last night, 
and came to a definite decision as to what he must do at once. 
Still, that he should pick flowers for her bosom and whisper 
love in her ear so soon ! That thought exasperated me ; 
for the fact is, I was as jealous as Kitty herself might have 
been in my place. 

I think my looks must have betrayed my feelings to Jack, 
who was an excellent physiognomist, when we met at the break- 
fast table. I felt that my eyes had a stony look in them, that 
the smile with which I greeted Miss Strong was forced, and 
that my features were pinched and unpleasant, with an as- 
sumed expression of complacency. And I believe also he 
divined the cause of my discomfort, and maliciously provoked 
it by his attentions to Miss Strong. It was as if he had said 
to himself, “ Oh, you don’t want me to marry Kitty, eh, Dick ? 
Well, we will see how you would like me to marry someone 
else,” and with a view to exasperating me, he made himself 
more lively and agreeable than ever to others, and especially 
to Miss Strong. 

As we rose from the table. Jack declaring he must run over 
to the Mill for letters which he had neglected to have for- 
warded, asked if a vehicle could be hired in the village. 

“ Why, there’s the fly at the Crown that I drove over to 
Sunningham on the day I dropped in upon you,” said the 
admiral ; “ but look you, Mr. Jack, as we shan’t have any too 
much of your company, I see no reason why we shouldn’t all 
go with you.” Miss Strong’s face flushed with pleasure, 
“ though to be sure,” he added, “ ’twill be a tight fit for five.” 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


I7S 

I begged them to leave me at home, as I had an important 
letter or two to write : and after some expostulation this ar- 
rangement was agreed to, for which I was heartily thankful, 
knowing that I should have been silent and ill at ease all the 
time. For it seemed to me, in my absurdly jealous condition, 
that Jack had planned this excursion on purpose to show 
Miss Strong the home he could offer her, and I remembered 
that it was in little trips of this kind that he had won poor 
Kitty’s heart. A maid was sent round to the Crown to order 
the fly, which came to the gate about half an hour after, 
and the whole party went off leaving me grinning in the road, 
with a torment in my heart. 

And here, to avoid complications, it will be best to tell 
what really had passed between Jack and Miss Strong 
before breakfast in that tete-d-iete which had so upset me ; 
the particulars of which I learned from them later on. 

Returning to the Cedars from his call on Mr. Feverell, 
Jack met Miss Strong in the garden where she was gather- 
ing flowers for the breakfast-table. 

“ Oh my flowers ! ” said Miss Strong, with a sigh, as they 
walked slowly along. “ What shall I do without them ? ” 

“What will they do without you t ” asked Jack. 

“ Don’t tell me that they will pine and die, or I shall cease 
to think you quite sincere, Mr. Sherridan.” 

“ Then we will change the subject, for I wish you to believe 
me perfectly sincere.” 

“ May I ask why you value my esteem so highly ? ” 

“ Because without esteem you cannot regard me as a friend, 
and friendship alone can justify me in speaking to you as I 
would.” 

“ Oh, the friendship exists. We are not mere acquaintances 
of a day. Remember I knew your grandfather from child- 
hood ; and since his death you have taken at least a part of 
the place he held in our affections. You know that my father 
conceals nothing from me : it is no secret that you would 
give us hajf your fortune.” 

“ I wish your kind feeling had not been won so cheaply.” 

“You think our sensibility is overstrained ; but indeed it 
is not. Put yourself in my father’s place, in mine — would you, 
having no greater right than we to your grandfather’s fortune, 
accept so many thousand pounds as a gift from us ? No, I 
am sure you would not. But this is not the subject you 
wished to speak to me freely about.” 


1/6 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


“ They are related,” said Jack, and then he told her the 
substance of our conversation with her father the night be- 
fore, adding in conclusion, “ your father gave no name, but 
his indication and my suspicions point to Crawley Shepherd 
as the common enemy. The question is, how are we to beat 
the rascal at his game ? ” 

“ Tricksters are difficult for honest players to beat, I fear,” 
said she. 

“ Yes, but it is not always the subtlest that wins. Now 
Holderness made a suggestion last night, that might lead to 
something.” 

“ Mr. Holderness ! ” exclaimed Miss Strong in surprise. 

“ Strength to confound the enemy out of the mouths of 
babes and sucklings,” observed the irreverent young man. 
“ Certainly the means he proposed would forestall Mr. Craw- 
ley and dispose of this vexatious pecuniary question.” 

“ Pray tell me what he has proposed.” 

“ That I should marry you, myself.” 

“Ahl” exclaimed Miss Strong, drawing herself up with 
indignation, as I can readily imagine at this crude announce- 
ment, “ Mr. Holderness is positively too good. And do you 
share the opinion he seems to entertain that you have only 
to throw me your handkerchief to be accepted } ” 

“ I have so little intention of marrying that I confess I gave 
that side of the question no consideration. But it struck me 
that if we could lead Mr. Crawley to suppose that I have 
intentions of that kind, the result might be advantageous. 
Jealous people lose their heads, become vindictive and enter- 
tain the basest suspicions. I should like to see the Rev. 
Crawley Shepherd under the influence of jealousy. I cannot 
imagine that man letting fury get the better of him, but he 
might say something to justify my boxing his ears. It might 
hasten the development of his plans : he would possibly make 
you an offer of marriage, and on being refused would certainly 
lay the flattering unction to his wounded feelings that his 
poverty was the cause, and that you gave the preference to 
me because of my fortune. Then I think the spirit of ven- 
geance would lead him to produce the will to ruin my fortunes 
and blight my happiness.” 

“ Why, it’s an act in a comedy ! ” cried Miss Strong, laugh- 
ing. “ No one but a writer of plays could have imagined such 
a denouement.” 

“The question is, as in all comedies, is it actable ? ” 


KITTY 'S FA THER. 


177 


“ That depends, I should say, upon whether the principal 
actor is satisfied with his role,” replied Miss Strong naively, 
with a blush and a smile. 

“ The actor must be difficult to please who has no greater 
task than to express admiration for Miss Strong.” 

“ And since it is understood that he has no object more 
serious in view than that of losing his fortune,” she retorted 
with gentle irony. 

“ At any rate we may give the idea a trial ; and as I hear 
Holderness pulling up his blind we will begin at once. His 
proposal was less sincere than he believed it, I feel sure ; 
and we shall judge of our ability to play our parts by the 
effect we find in his tell-tale face at breakfast. Allow me to 
offer you this rose to add to your collection.” 

“ Oh, Mr. Sherridan,” she said, entering into the part at 
once, with what ability, I have already shown by my confes- 
sion. 


If I had only known this how I should have chuckled to 
observe the delicate solicitude with which Jack, in passing 
the vicarage, arranged the dust cloak upon Miss Strong’s 
shoulders (on the chance of being seen by the observant 
curate ;) and it w'as this attention with her simpering smile 
of acknowledgment that made my blood boil with jealous 
wrath. 

In that condition, it was impossible to write my letter to 
Kitty. I had no gentle thoughts to make a letter pleasant to 
the receiver, and like most embittered men, my dearest wish 
was to make someone else as wretched as mpelf. “ If I 
could only see Yorke,” said I to myself, “I’d give it to him! 
He should know what he has brought about by his wicked- 
ness ; and if he has any real feeling for his daughter, I would 
make him suffer keenly for this.” 

And with the chance of seeing him in the vicarage grounds, 
and putting my desire into execution, I made for the pad- 
dock, and looked into the adjoining orchard. No one was 
in sight ; but I lingered there, uncovering the admiral’s gun 
and making a pretence of examining its mechanism. Sud- 
denly, when I least expected it, I heard a voice exclaim in an 
accent of delight and surprise : 

“ Oh, good-morning, my deah Mr. Holderness ! I thought 
you were gone with that merry party for a little jaunt.” 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


178 

Mr. Crawley Shepherd was leaning over the rail that di- 
vided the two grounds, with that beaming, oily face of his and 
sickly smile. He was alone ; however, I promised myself 
the pleasure of making him smart if I couldn’t get at 
Yorke. 

“ I heard Miss Strong’s merry laugh,” he continued in his 
chirpy, cheerful way, as he laid his flabby hand in mine, 
“ and I was just in time to see dear Mr. Sherridan’s fine hand- 
some physiognomy. “ I knew you were here,” he added, 
shaking his finger at me in the amiable tone of reproof, which 
an indulgent teacher employs with a naughty boy, “ but I 
doubt if you gave yourself the trouble to call at Rose Cottage 
to see me.” 

“ If I had,” said I, “ I should not have found you there.” 

That is true. I have been here since Friday, for dear 
Mr. Shuttle is so helpless and lonely, and it is such a satisfac- 
tion to be of use to my fellow-creatures. He has gone to 
London to-day on business, and left me to take charge of the 
house in his absence, or I would ask you to go for a nice little 
walk with me as you are all alone. But I daresay you will 
not be alone, long.” 

“ I think they will return to late lunch ; Mr, Sherridan has 
taken Miss Strong to see his house.” 

“ Eoh ! ” he exclaimed, raising his eyebrows, his smile 
growing a little more bilious. “ Deah old place, is it not ? ” 

“Yes, but dull if one had to live there alone.” 

“ That is very true ; but Mr. Sherridan will not live alone 
long, I am sure. I remember little Miss Kitty,” he said wdth 
a very arch shake of his head. 

“ Her engagement with Mr. Sherridan is quite broken off,” 
said I, with the hope that he would communicate the fact to 
Yorke when he returned. “ However, as you say, he is not 
likely to live alone long on that account.” 

“ Eoh ! ” Mr. Shepherd’s eyes grew rounder and more pro- 
tuberant than ever, and the smile almost departed from his 
face. “ And do you really think he has already disposed of 
his affections elsewhere ? ” 

“ Well, it looks uncommonly like it,” said I with a grin of 
vindictive pleasure at the evident discomfort of the curate. 
“ In fact I feel sure that he intends to marry Miss Strong. 
She is lively, accomplished, amiable apparently, and beyond 
all doubt exceedingly handsome,” he nodded melancholy 
assent to each of these recommendations, “ and I daresay he 


KITTY^S FATHER. 


179 


looks upon it as a matter of duty to bestow the fortune that 
has fallen in his hands according to the will which it seems 
his grandfather intended to execute. Though whether that 
is likely to enrich her remains to be seen.” 

“ Why, what do you mean, my dear Mr. Holderness } ” he 
asked with nothing left of his habitual smile, but the creases 
it had worn in his cheek. 

“ He spoke to me seriously last night of investing his money 
in that precious gun,” said I with a nod at the machine. 

“ Oh, deah, deah, deah ! Such a possibility crossed my 
mind when I saw him yesterday exercising that terrible 
engine of destruction.” 

“ You may well call it that,” said I, with another savage 
grin, inspired by his look of terror ; “ but it’s more likely to 
destroy a fine fortune than enemies of our country, from what 
I observed.” 

“ It cost sixty-five pounds to repair the injury done to the 
church spire by that horrid instrument.” 

“ Yes ; the admiral boasts that he can fire off ten pounds 
worth of ammunition in ten minutes. No fortune can stand 
such a drain as that upon it. It’s brought the admiral to such 
a state of insolvency that he cannot keep the brokers out of 
his house.” 

“ I hear that they are in possession.” 

“And there they would stay, if Mr. Sherridan had not in- 
structed his agent to get them out. Ah, well, I only hope he 
may find a friend to do as much for him when that infernal 
gun has made smoke of his money.” 

“ That magnificent fortune ! ” he exclaimed, holding up his 
clammy hands in unfeigned horror, “the treasure which I 
helped the deah vicar, my lamented master, to store up, all 
to be thrown away and scattahed like chaff before the 
wind ! ” 

“ To the advantage of nobody.” 

“ Nay, to the positive disadvantage of many worthy souls, 
and the ruin of the unoffending ; ” holding on to the rail, he 
bent forward at each division of his sentence to give emphasis 
to his words ; “for a man not content with squandering his 
substance plunges into debt before he checks his downward 
career. And what is to become of the unfortunate credi- 
tors ? ” 

“ Why, to be sure, they will have to whistle for their 


i8o 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


money/’ said I, chuckling to think how he would be left with 
those bills in his hands, which he had bought or stolen. 

“ The deah vicar’s fears were only too well-grounded, and 
were he living now he would find that my misgivings with 
regard to his misguided grandson were substantially based 
like a house set on a rock. And do you really think, my 
dear Mr. Holderness, that Miss Strong will accept this head- 
- strong and thriftless young man for her husband ? ” 

“ That’s as clear as day,” said I, “ for what other chance 
is she likely to get when her father’s estate is sold up and 
they are thrown on their own resources. Is it probable that 
any girl in her position would refuse a husband with such a 
fortune ? ” 

“ But if this fortune is to be invested in such an enterprise 
as that,” with a most despairing look at the gun. 

“ Ah, she’s got to find that out,” said I, “ you can’t expect 
foresight in a young lady of her age.” 

“ Would it not be advisable to warn her, my deah Mr. 
Holderness ? ” he asked, the sweet persuasive smile return- 
ing to his face. 

“ It’s not for me to do that. In fact, sir,” said I, with a 
qualm lest this disclosure of mine should come round to the 
admiral’s ears, “ I’m afraid my mortification has led me to 
say too much already.” 

A ring at the bell gave me an excuse to leave him ; and I 
was not sorry to afford him the opportunity of meditating on 
the matter we had discussed. 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


i8i 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

MR SINGLETON, THE DETECTIVE, COMES ON THE SCENE. 

The bell had been rung by a respectably dressed young 
man, looking like a lawyer’s clerk, who wished to see the men 
in possession. The maid-servant came to know what she 
ought to do in the absence of her master, and as I had reason 
to believe that the clerk had come to tell the officers that the 
debt was discharged, I bade her admit him. The result 
was, as I anticipated ; the men left the house with the clerk 
almost immediately. 

I had ample time before Jack’s return to recover my 
equanimity, and get over my unreasonable grudge against 
him. Indeed, I very soon began to see that my jealousy was 
childish and contemptible, and felt duly ashamed of having 
given way to it, telling myself that I ought to be pleased 
that he had taken energetic measures to overcome his feeling 
for Kitty, and preclude further hope if (as I truly believed) 
it was impossible for them to marry. And this seemed more 
positive than ever now that by no twisting of supposition 
could I explain away the evidence which pointed so conclu- 
sively to Yorke’s implication in the murder. 

So when the party came home, all brisk and gay with the 
pleasure of the excursion, I put on the best face I could to 
meet them, and shutting my eyes to the unpleasant side of 
the affair, looked Jack in the face with returning affection. 
To tell the truth, as he met my reward with a smile made up 
of amusement and kindliness, every bitter reflection went out 
of my mind, and warming towards him, I pressed his hand 
with that expansion of heart which friends feel after a little 
rupture. 

“ The journey was not fruitless,” said he, “ I found a letter 
for you, Dick.” 

I took it, and seeing it was from Kitty, I slipped it quietly 
into my pocket instead of opening it at once as usual. 

“ You won’t be so greedy as to devour it all alone, surely,” 


i 82 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


said he in remonstrance, “ you can find a little scrap or two 
in it for me.” 

“ Why Jack,” said I, a little uneasily, fearing to wound him, 
“I thought that you might not care to hear any more about 
Kitty now. I am not blind ” 

“ Not quite, perhaps; but you’re the victim of an optical 
illusion,” said he, with a hearty laugh. And then he told me 
of the plot he had concocted with Miss Strong, which I have 
narrated in the last chapter ; and all the time I listened, my 
spirits grew lighter and lighter, though I knew perfectly well 
that this elation was not a whit more creditable to my com- 
mon-sense than my previous depression had been, and that 
logically I ought to deplore his constancy to Kitty. 

“ Well, well,” said I, when I had heard him out, “ you 
have taken me in to be sure ; but there’s a man vastly more 
cunning than I pretend to be, who has been hoodwinked as 
famously,” and then I, in my turn, told him all that had 
passed between the Rev. Crawley Shepherd and myself. 

“ This is capital ! ” he exclaimed, rubbing his hands with 
delight. “You have created a splendid part in the plot, and 
played it the better, I daresay, for being unconscious of it. 
However, we will not let the action halt. Now that we 
know the rascal’s tender point, we can goad him on to des- 
peration. This afternoon we will burn another five pounds 
worth of powder ; and if Mr. Crawley Shepherd can listen 
calmly to the destruction of the money which he hopes to 
acquire, he is not the avaricious schemer we take him for.” 

Our discussion was interrupted at this juncture by a knock 
at my door, and the entrance of the admiral, who confront- 
ing me, with his feet planted well apart, said : 

“ Look here, Mr. Squeaker, I find my bumbailiffs are gone ; 
and as it’s pretty clear they wouldn’t leave me unless they 
were paid to go, I take it you have been getting at them in 
my absence.” 

“ Well, sir, I haven’t the means, if I had the will to dis- 
charge your obligations.” 

“ May be,” he retorted with an artful leer, “ but didn’t Mr. 
Jack in there provide you with the means, telling you to clear 
the house of these fellows, while he took old Square-toes 
(meaning me) out a driving.” 

“ I’ll take my oath he gave me nothing, nor said anything 
of the sort,” said I. 

“ Why, then, this must be another move of that d d 


KIT TY 'S FA TUFF. 


183 

Crawley of a piece with his buying up those bills of mine, and 
much good may they do him. I can’t say I see the object of 
this last manoeuvre fairly, which seems more likely to run him 
ashore, than to give him any advantage over me, but I war- 
rant there’s some villainy at the bottom of it, which an honest 
man cannot sight. However, I don’t care who bleeds for me 
so that it be not a friend, so let’s get down to lunch, and 
think no more of it.” 

Soon after lunch. Jack and the admiral recommended ex- 
periments with the gun, and the afternoon being very warm 
and bright, Miss Strong, dressed in the lightest and most 
coquettish style, had a garden chair carried into the paddock, 
where she seated herself with a fan on the windward side of 
the machine, and took a lively interest in the proceedings, 
which Jack explained to her at length after each explosion. 
For my own part 1 thought it advisable to keep in the back- 
ground, where I could not be seen from the vicarage grounds, 
lest the curate should suspect collusion and see through the 
conspiracy. A glance now and then through the hedge that 
divided the kitchen garden from the paddock was enough for 
me. It was amusing to see how admirably Jack and Miss. 
Strong played their parts, he, with all the earnestness in the 
world, pointing out the defects of a burst cartridge, she listen- 
ing with smiling complacency, as she slowly flirted her fan, 
evidently more interested in him than in the subject of his 
discourse ; but that which gave me real satisfaction was the 
glimpse of a dusky figure flitting about in the smoke, which 
was undoubtedly that of the curate, choked out of his 
hiding place by a turn of the wind, and trying to find his way 
through the blinding cloud. 

By tightening a screw. Jack, who knew a little of every- 
thing, had effected a considerable improvement in the work- 
ing of the gun, which now, instead of discharging all the 
barrels at a volley, fired one only at each revolution of the 
apparatus ; and though this certainly was a great economy 
of ammunition on each round, it served to lengthen out the 
agony of the grasping curate, who I figured in my mind’s eye 
counting shot after shot, and making a mental calculation of 
the cost to himself of so many hundred cartridges at so much 
apiece. This, with the picture before him, of the beautiful 
young woman he coveted, doing all in her power to fascinate 
his rival, must have worked him up into a fever of sordid and 
jealous exasperation. When the announcement of dinner 


i84 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


obliged the admiral to cease firing for the day, he was as 
grimy as an engine-driver, with the smoke from the gun- 
powder. Delighted beyond measure with the result of the 
afternoon’s experiments, he declared that with a few more 
alterations the gun would be perfect, and the nation secure 
from the danger of occupation by an enemy, if only the 
lethargic War-office CQuld be induced to take up the arm ; and 
Jack, declaring that these alterations should be made forth- 
with, went out in the evening, and engaged half-a-dozen smiths 
to come up to the Cedars the following morning, with a view 
to taking the gun to pieces and overhauling the mechanism. 

About ten o’clock the workmen arrived, each furnished with 
such miscellaneous tools as his limited acquaintance with the 
work to be done, suggested might come in handy. We went 
down to the field in a body, and then, as there were a few 
dozen cartridges left. Jack, in order to draw the Rev. Mr. 
Shepherd’s attention to the proceedings, proposed making 
one or two experiments before dismounting the piece ; to 
W’hich the admiral who loved nothing so well as the smell of 
powder, and the roaring of guns, readily assented. Scarcely 
a dozen rounds had been fired, when I caught sight of Bob 
Yorke and the curate coming through the vicarage orchard 
towards us. 

I noticed at once that there was a change in Yorke’s appear- 
ance ; what it was I could not decide, until observing that his 
lip and chin were now perfectly clean shaven, I remembered 
that when he came over to the Mill-House, he wore a moustache 
and chin tuft. What was the meaning of this ? I asked my- 
self, was he absolutely courting suspicion ? 

He took no notice of me, but approaching the gun, regarded 
it from his side of the railing with a sort of mournful curiosity. 
Mr. Shepherd looked harried and careworn ; his smile was 
bilious as he gave me the tips of his fingers over the rail, and 
begged to know what those men were going to do. 

“ But, my dear sir,” he exclaimed, when I had explained 
Jack’s intention, “ those men are only common blacksmiths, 
quite incapable of delicate work. They will render the 
engine utterly worthless.” 

“ What does it matter ? ” I asked in a low voice, “ focls 
and their money, you know, are soon parted ; and one way 
or the other, Mr. Sherridan is bound to lose every farthino' 
he has.” For a moment he looked as if he were about to 
weep, then suddenly clapping his hands, his features w^rc clis- 


KITTY S FA THER. 185 

torted with a spasm of pain, as another discharge rent the 
air. 

“ Say, Mr. Sherridan,” said Yorke, as the smoke cleared 
away “ as I hired your residence for a spell of tranquillity, you 
will oblige me by stating if this kind of thing is of daily 
occurrence.” 

I did not catch Jack’s reply, for at that moment the ad- 
miral called me to his side. He held a card in his hand, 
which the maid had brought down from the house. 

“ Holderness,” said he, “ here’s a gentleman wishes to see 
me ; I don’t know the man, and for aught I know he may be 
but a dun. Will you be good enough to go up and see what 
he wants ; for I’ve got a word or two to say to this neighbor 
of mine which may lead to a rather lengthy dispute.” 

I took the card and hastened up to the house. The name 
neatly printed upon the card was James Singleton; and the 
address below was 24 Chancery Lane. 

I found Mr. Singleton in the hall — a young man in a closely 
buttoned frock-coat, hat in hand. He had side whiskers 
clipped short, but no moustache, a long thin nose, and a 
couple of keen, gray eyes, deep set. He looked like a clerk 
or a smart body servant. 

“ Admiral Strong,” he inquired, after looking at me. 

‘‘ No ; the admiral is engaged. He has sent me to inquire 
your business.” 

“ It is of a private nature,” he said, dropping his voice. 

“ I am afraid the admiral will not see you unless you can 
give me some more definite indication,” I replied. 

He glanced round him and after a moment’s reflection 
said : 

“ If you tell him, that I am a private detective,” said he in 
the same low tone, “ and that I have information which may 
lead to the recovery of the will he has advertised for — and 
possibly to the apprehension of the murderer who stole it, he 
may think it worth while to give me an interview.” 


i86 


KITTY'S FATHER, 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

THE ADMIRAL AND JACK COME TO AN ARRANGEMENT WITH THE 
DETECTIVE. 

My first impulse, as the danger to Kitty’s father flashed 
upon my mind, was to get rid of Singleton by some expedient, 
in order that the admiral might not engage him to hunt down 
the vicar’s murderer ; but a moment’s consideration showed 
me the impracticability of this design, and also the inadvisa- 
bility of it before I had ascertained whether the detective’s 
suspicions were directed against Yorke or another. With a 
view to learning something upon this point, I took Mr. Sin- 
gleton into the morning-room — Miss Strong and her friend 
being in the garden, and closing the door, told him that my 
name was Holderness, that I was greatly interested in the 
mysterious crime that had taken place, and that I should feel 
much obliged if he would give me some more precise infor- 
mation with regard to the facts he wished to communicate to 
the admiral. 

With a smile at my simplicity, he replied that he had told 
me quite as much as he felt justified in divulging : “ Indeed,” 
said he, “ if you had not been Mr. Holderness, I shouldn’t 
have let out so much as I have.” 

“ How ! ” said I, sharply, “ you knew my name was Holder- 
ness, and yet at our meeting you asked if I was not Admiral 
Strong.” 

“ That was what we call a draw,” said he with a wink ; “ if 
you had been the admiral there would have been no necessity 
to pretend ignorance.” 

I tried him with one or two questions, but finding that he, 
at any rate, was not to be drawn, I left him and returned to 
the orchard in a flutter of apprehension and excitement. The 
admiral was getting warm in his discussion with Yorke, who 
faced him with phlegmatic coolness. 

“Well, if you don’t like the music,” cried the admiral, 
“ there’s a couple of alternatives for you : you can go else- 
where or you can buy the gun.” 

“ That’s what parson advised,” replied Yorke, “ and for the 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


187 

sake of peace'and quiet I’ll buy the instrument at the market 
price of old iron, for as a gun, I reckon it’s about the biggest 
failure this old country has ever produced. I have a hog- 
sticking machine in Chicago A^hich would create more havoc 
in the ranks of an enemy in five minutes, than your cart wheel 
would produce in five centuries. You may send in the bill 
with the article when you feel like trading. Morning, Ad- 
miral ! ” 

As he turned his back on the admiral, whose wrath could 
find no words, I stepped up to the old gentleman and delivered 
Singleton’s message. 

He called Jack, who was superintending the removal of the 
bolts from the machine, and having repeated Singleton’s mes- 
sage cried eagerly : 

“ Come on, Mr. Jack, we will hear what the fellow has to 
say ; but I’ll never believe he’s on the right scent unless he 
tells us that those two rascals are at the bottom of it,” with 
that he shook his fist at the backs of Yorke and the curate. 

As I was not invited to take part in the interview, I re- 
mained in the paddock, hoping to find an opportunity of let- 
ting Yorke know of the detective’s visit. 

But I can relate here what took place in the morning-room 
from the particulars which Jack gave me later on. 

“Well, young man,” said the admiral, as they entered the 
room, “ I hear you have something to tell me with respect 
to the missing will ? ” 

“ I have, Mr. Strong,” replied Singleton, “ but with your 
permission I will close this window, for, what I have to say 
is only for your ear and Mr. Sherridan’s,” he added, looking 
at Jack. 

“ Oh, you know Mr. Sherridan, do you } ” 

“Naturally, sir, I have not neglected to make myself ac- 
quainted with a gentleman who is quite as deeply concerned 
as yourself in the recovery of the will. I saw you first, sir, 
wdth Mr. Holderness at Scarborough.” 

“ I haven’t the slightest remembrance of having seen you 
there or elsewhere.” 

“ Dare say not, sir,” replied Singleton, with a smile, puck- 
ering his meagre cheek. “ I have to know a great many 
people who are never likely to know me. Well, now, sir,” 
addressing the admiral, — “ may I take a chair ? Thank you 
— to business. You have been advertising for some time an 
offer of a thousand pounds for the recovery of a will supposed 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


1 88 

to have been left by the late Mr. Roger Sherridan. To 
avoid wasting your time, and my own, will you kindly tell me 
if you see any reasonable prospect of that will being given 
up by the party who now has it in his possession } ” 

“No, I don’t,” replied the admiral, stoutly. 

“ That is also your view ? ” said Singleton, turning to 
Jack. 

“ No,” said Jack, “ that is not my opinion.” 

“ Then something has happened within the last three days 
to change your opinion,” said Singleton, as sharp as a needle. 

“ Possibly,” said Jack, careful not to commit himself. 

“ I should very much like to know what has happened, 
Mr. Sherridan,” said Singleton, with a puzzled look on his 
face. 

“ Aye, and so should I,” exclaimed the admiral. 

“ I dare say, you would like to know, Mr. Singleton,” said 
Jack, “ especially if you happened to be engaged by the other 
side, to find out the length of our suspicions.” 

“ D n it, I didn’t think of that,” cried the admiral. 

“ What have you got to say for yourself now, Mr. Detec- 
tive ? ” 

“ Only this, sir, that if Mr. Sherridan suspects me of 
acting ‘ on the other side ’ I am surprised that a gentleman 
of his shrewdness should let me know that his views are 
changed. Such an admission would put the other side on 
its guard.” 

“ Hang this skirmishing from the tops,” cried the admiral 
impatiently, “ let’s come to serious action. Now, what’s 
your game, sir, eh .? ” 

“Hum ! It looks as if Mr. Sherridan has taken the game 
out of my hands. I came here, to offer my professional serv- 
ices for the recovery of the will ; but, I cannot expect you 
to put yourself to any expense while your friend holds out 
the hope of procuring it for nothing.” 

“ Ha ! what do you say to that, Mr. Jack, with these opin- 
ions that you have kept so mighty secret ? ” asked the 
admiral, with some acerbity. 

“ If the person who holds the will finds no means of turn- 
ing it to a more profitable advantage, it is a fair presumption 
that he will give it up and take the handsome reward you 
offer.” 

“Why, there’s something in that to be sure — eh?” said 
the admiral, turning on Singleton. 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


189 

“ Not much,” replied he, with a smile. “ And I doubt 
very much if Mr. Sherridan really bases his opinion on that 
possibility. If he had practised in the criminal courts as 
long as he has studied for the bar, he would know that 
nearly every crime is traced home to the perpetrator by his 
attempt to dispose of the stolen property. It is exceedingly 
difficult for an old hand, an experienced thief to sell his 
plunder for anything like its absolute value. The difficulty 
is greater still when the thief is unacquainted with the means 
to be employed. He dare not offer the article for sale, as 
you might offer a horse or anything to which you could show 
a legal right — it must be done in an indirect and roundabout 
fashion. Now, supposing the will is now in the hands of a 
person who is not a professional thief ” 

“ We will suppose it’s the Rev. Mr. Crawley,” said the 
admiral, slyly. 

“ As you please, sir, suppose it is the Rev. Mr. Crawley 
Shepherd ; it would be practically impossible for him to 
claim your reward, without laying himself open to immediate 
arrest by the police — unless he could do it through an inter- 
mediary — a thief who knows his business.” 

“ And suppose he’s hand in glove with such a thief calling 
himself by the name of Shuttle ! ” cried the admiral, banging 
his fist on the table. 

“ Quite so, sir, suppose he had the assistance of Mr. Deci- 
mus Shuttle, what do you think he would have to pay him 
for the risk he runs } At least three^ourths of the sum re- 
[ ceived. Now, do you think anyone holding any sort of posi- 
i tion in society would place himself under the thumb of such 
a man for the small sum of two hundred and fifty pounds. 

1 If Mr. Shuttle knew his business he could blackmail Mr. 
Shepherd to the end of his days by the threat of betrayal. 
And, remember, gentlemen, it is not merely prosecution for 
theft which Mr. Shepherd has to encounter ; it is prosecution 
for the murder of the vicar of St. Botolph’s.” 

“ Aye, there you are again,” said the admiral, with a shake 
of his head, now what have you got to say to that, Mr. 
Jack ? ” 

“ The argument is good enough : I have nothing to say 
against it.” 

“ And yet you are of opinion that the will may be given 
up, — given up, not sold,” the detective said quickly, fixing 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


190 

his sharp eyes on Jack, whose attitude clearly perplexed and 
interested him greatly. 

“ What the dickens is the good of all this beating up and 
filling and tacking ! ” exclaimed the admiral, losing patience. 
“ There’s nothing but plain sailing as I can see. Look here, 
Mr. What’s-your-name, I don’t know whether you’re a knave 
or a fool, and I don’t see that it matters much to me. But 
if you think you can get the will, set to business without any 
more of this confounded slack-jaw, and you shall have the 
thousand pounds I offered, when the job’s done.” 

“ Thank you, sir. I will ask you for a note of agreement 
to that effect.” 

“ Why, there’s my offer printed in the papers. Isn’t that 
enough ? ” 

“ I shall want you to rescind that offer, sir, at once. The 
will must be made as valueless as a piece of waste paper to 
the present owner of it.” 

“ Or the curate may take the wind out of your sails. That’s 
fair enough. Give me the pen and ink. Jack.” 

“ The reward should be made payable if the will is restored 
within a certain time,” Jack suggested, as he brought the 
writing materials to the admiral. 

“ That is reasonable,” said Singleton, after a moment’s 
thought. “ You must give me at least three weeks.” 

“ The offer shall hold good till the last day of September 
— how does that suit you ? ” 

Singleton thanked the admiral for this extension of time, 
and while the agreement was being written, drew out a note- 
book from his pocket, from which he took a folded sheet of 
paper. When the note of agreement was given him he read 
it, and thanking the admiral again, placed it in his note-book 
carefully. “ Now, sir,” said he, “ I want you to let me issue 
this advertisement in certain papers.” He unfolded the sheet 
of paper and laid it before the admiral and Jack. They 
read : 

“ One thousand pounds reward. This sum will be paid 
for such evidence as may lead to the apprehension of the 
person or persons concerned in the murder of Mr. Roger 
Sherridan on the night of June 12. Apply to James Singleton, 
Chancery Lane, London. N. B. — All previous offers for the 
restoration of property stolen from the deceased are hereby 
revoked.” 

“ This runs me aground ! ” exclaimed the admiral. “ I 


KITTY'S FA THER, 


191 

could have paid the reward for the recovery of the will, for 
that would have made me a rich man ; but if the will is not 
given up I see no way of paying this sum. For I take it, 
Mr. Clever, you’re not sufficiently disinterested to pay the 
money out of your own pocket.” 

“ Not all, Mr. Strong ; but I’m prepared to pay something. 
If you decline to contribute anything I must lower the amount 
of the reward. Of course its unreasonable to expect Mr. 
Sherridan to pay for the proceedings, which in all probability 
will deprive him of a fortune.” 

“ On the contrary,” said Jack, as quietly as he could, under 
the sting of this insinuation, “ it is no more than 3'ou should 
expect of an honorable man, Mr. Singleton.” As he spoke 
he took a sheet of paper and wrote an agreement to pay the 
reward for the apprehension of his grandfather’s murderers. 

“ Jack,” said the admiral in a low voice, grasping his hand 
as Singleton read the paper, “ if that old fellow, Mr. Thingumy, 
were to drop in here to-night, he’d have to blow out his candle 
and go home to his tub in the dark.” 

With this,” said Singleton, rising as he slipped his note- 
book into the breast-pocket of his coat, “ I feel tolerably 
certain that we shall run the rascals down. It isn’t enough 
for me to recover the will, though that alone would be pretty 
good biz — my main object is to get the murderer convicted, 
which will establish my reputation and bring me in more 
than your reward, Mr. Strong.” He paused at the door, look- 
ing in his hat reflectively, then cocking his eye at Jack said : 

“ But I should have liked to know your reasons for think- 
ing the will would be given up without outside influences. 
However,” he added, as Jack made no other reply than a 
chuckle, “ I shall find that out within twenty-four hours.” • 


192 


KITTY^S FATHER, 


CHAPTER XXX. 

A FRUITLESS EFFORT. 

“ I AM vejy doubtful whether we have done the right thing 
in this alfair/’ said Jack to me after recounting what I have 
put into form in the last chapter. “ Singleton’s an uncom- 
monly clever, sharp, long-headed fellow, and I think he has 
got the best of us.” 

“ In what way ? ” I asked. 

“ In getting my promise to pay that reward for the appre- 
hension of the murderers without giving any assurance that 
we should get the will. You see, Dick, our main object is to 
get the will ; his is to run down the murderer and bring a 
case before the public which shall bring him clients. He ad- 
mitted that, and I saw my error at once — when it was too 
late to retract or to make stipulations. Of course he will 
earn that thousand if he can, but his manner conveyed very 
little hope of success. He was not elated enough by the 
admiral’s offer, too anxious to discover my plans to have any 
faith in achieving that. I am inclined to believe that his 
proposal with regard to the will was nothing but a pretext 
for introducing himself and getting a guarantee for the re- 
ward which may procure witnesses in the murder case.” 

“What witnesses can he expect to get, Jack V’ I asked, 
trembling as I thought of Yorke’s danger. 

‘^Oh, he hopes that this large reward will tempt one of 
these two men at the vicarage to peach on the other.” 

“ You think he suspects them ?” 

“ Not a doubt about it. I’ve made an ass of myself, Dick,” 
he said in a tone of deep vexation. “ So far as the will is 
concerned, I have done more harm than good.” 

“ How can that be, if you agree with Singleton that Shep- 
herd would not run the risk of restoring it for such a small 
share in the profits as would be gained by it ? ” 

“ Why, don’t you see, Dick, if that inducement is taken 
away none remains. For if the will is rendered valueless 
why should he take the trouble to return it. Slight as the 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


193 


risk of discovery is in sending it to us by post anonymously, 
it need not be encountered. He has only to put the will in 
the fire and there’s an end of it. However,” he added, with 
a shade of anger, “ contemptible as vengeance is, I shall be 
glad to sec those rascals brought to justice, and if money 
can make one of the scoundrels split on the other, Singleton 
shall have as much as he needs.” 

This announcement coming from one whose strength of 
character gave weight to his word, made my flesh creep with 
apprehension. For though Shepherd might lack the physical 
courage to commit a murder, I felt perfectly sure that he was 
capable of the baser crime of treachery. If, then, two were 
partners in the crime, and discovery of their guilt became 
imminent, Crawley Shepherd would play into Singleton’s 
hands, to save himself ; the appearance of Singleton’s ad- 
vertisement might frighten him at once into betraying Yorke. 
On Saturday that advertisement would probably appear in 
the Chester papers, and on seeing it. Shepherd might com- 
municate at once with Singleton. 

There w'as no time to lose : Yorke must be warned im- 
mediately. But how ? If by some happy accident I should 
see him walking alone in the vicarage grounds it would be 
impossible to approach him wdthout risking discovery by the 
curate ; if I wrote to him my letter might be intercepted and 
read by the curate ; the only alternative that presented it- 
self to my mind was to call upon him openly and trust to 
chance for an opportunity of putting him on his guard. 

But what pretext could I offer, for calling upon a man with 
whom I was supposed to be so slightly acquainted, which 
should blind the curate to my real purpose ? 

By dint of cudgelling my brains, I at length hit on an ex- 
pedient which seemed sufflciently plausible. Going to Jack, 
whom also I had to keep in the dark, I asked him if I had 
not seen “ Baldwin’s Early English Music, sacred and sec- 
ular,” at the Mill-House. 

“ Why, that’s about the last place in the world you would 
see such a work,” said he. “ No, Dick, you must have seen 
it at the vicarage when we were rummaging the library.” 

“ To be sure,” said I, feigning sudden conviction, “ I re- 
member now. Do you mind my asking Mr. Shuttle to let 
me have it for a few hours ; I may not have the chance of 
seeing it again.” 

*‘I’ve not the slightest objection of course, Dick; but,” 
10 


194 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


he added, warningly, “ don’t let them pump you about our 
affairs — not a word about Singleton.” 

“Trust me, Jack,” said I, and he smiled as I took up my 
hat to start off, little guessing that my sole purpose was to 
warn Yorke against the detective. 

Mr. Shepherd came to the gate when I rang the vicarage 
bell, and greeted me with smiles of gladness. 

“ What a pleasant surprise is this, my deah Mr. Holder- 
ness ! ” he exclaimed, unlocking the gate, “ I was just about 
to make a nice cup of tea for Mr. Shuttle and myself.” 

“ Ah, I want to speak to Mr. Shuttle if he is at home.” 

“ Yes, he never goes out in the daytime. He is such a 
stra7ige gentleman.” He imparted this information in a low 
tone, but added in a voice that might be heard at some dis- 
tance, “ but kind to me and generous! And I suppose,” 
lowering his voice again, “ that you have brought an offer 
from that deah funny old admiral with regard to the gun 
which Mr. Shuttle offered to purchase.” 

“ No,” I replied, in a tone of disgust, “ if anyone buys 
it, Mr. Sherridan will. However, it’s no business of mine 
how he disposes of his time and fortune ; though it would be 
a different matter if he were engaged to my niece. You 
must find it rather dull here, Mr. Shepherd.” 

“ Eoh deah, no ! I am nevah dull. I am so busy all day. 
For we cannot find a domestic servant to suit us, and so I 
have all the work of the house to do. I have my little para- 
fin stove and my spirit lamp to make tea with, and I have not 
an idle moment the whole day long. It is so nice to be use- 
ful, isn’t it ? ” 

Coming upon the lawn at this point, I perceived Kitty’s 
father seated under the veranda, cross-legged on a chair, 
whittling a stick with an expression of abject dejection in his 
face. He cast a languid glance at me as I came up, and con- 
tinued whittling the stick as I explained the pretended object 
of my visit. I made a long story of it, for as Mr. Shepherd was 
standing by, I could not let Yorke know by words that I 
wished to speak with him in private, and I hoped that he 
would give me an opportunity of communicating my desire by 
a sign. But he kept his eye fixed on the stick he was chip- 
ping the whole time, and when I said that I could show him 
where the book I wanted was, if he would be good enough to 
let me go into the library with him, he replied : 

“ I reckon I don’t take enough interest in the work to care 


KJTTY^S FA THER. 


195 

about inspecting the place where it is situated. You can 
take the volume.” 

He did just raise his eyes for a moment, and as the curate 
was then engaged in arranging the tea-things upon a garden 
table behind me, I seized the occasion to give Yorke a look 
which should have said as plainly as words, “ For the sake 
of Heaven, follow me into the library.” Then I went into 
the room and fumbled about at the shelves of the book-case, 
expecting him to saunter in and learn what it was I had to 
tell him. But he did nothing of the kind, though the length 
of the time I remained there must have shown him that I 
had some other purpose than that of getting the book, even 
if the expression of my face had failed to convey my 
thought. 

“ Ah, here it is ; I’ve found it at last,” said I, taking down 
the volume as Mr. Shepherd came in ; for I saw it was dan- 
gerous to protract the search further. 

“ But you must not leave me yet awhile,” said he, shaking 
his finger at me, “ for Mr. Shuttle has kindly permitted me to 
ask you to take a little refreshment with us — a nice cup of tea 
and some brown bread and butter, cut thin, with a little mar- 
malade, all so nice ! Come, you mustn’t say no.” 

I accepted the invitation with a pretence of hesitation, 
and took my seat at the little table under the veranda, with 
the resolution of making Yorke aware of his peril at all 
hazards. He was still whittling, and took no notice of us. 

“ Your tea is getting quite cold, Mr. Shuttle,” said the 
curate in a tone of gentle remonstrance. 

“ Let it get ! ” replied Yorke with a sigh. 

Mr. Shepherd glanced at me with a covert smile, which 
seemed to say, “ What a dear, strange man ! ” and then taking 
up the thread of our previous conversation where it had been 
dropped, he said : 

“ And so the engagement between your charming niece, 
Miss Kitty, and deah Mr. Sherridan, is broken ? ” 

“Yes,” said I, delighted with the chance of talking at 
Yorke, “ and I cannot regret it, Mr. Shepherd. Indeed, under 
existing circumstances, if I saw any probability of their com- 
ing together again I should do all in my power to prevent 
their marriage. Yes,” I added, raising my voice in exasper- 
ation, as Bob Yorke at that moment began to whistle the 
first bars of “ Yankee Doodle ” through his teeth, “rather than 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


196 

permit her to marry that young man, I would reveal every- 
thing I have hitherto kept secret from her.” 

“ You do not really mean to say that you have any secrets 
from deah Miss Kitty ? ” 

“ I am very sorry to say I have,” I answered, and then 
the eager curiosity in Mr. Shepherd’s face warning me that 
I had gone far enough, I said no more. 

“ How very sad ! But I fear your objection to Mr. Sher- 
ridan is only too well founded. From his youth he has 
been too careless of the possessions which Providence has 
showered upon him. He has shown a reckless indifference 
to the guidance of Prudence, which must inevitably lead him 
into the slough of Destitution. How long, ah, how long, will 
it be before his fortune is squandered in f^oolish devices ! ” 

“ It is probable that the fortune will not be long his to 
squander.” 

“ Deah Mr. Holderness, what do you mean,” asked Mr. 
Shepherd, letting the sugar fall from the tongs in his sur- 
prise. I noticed that Yorke’s whistling grew pianissimo at 
the same time. 

“ Well, I suppose the matter is no secret, as it has been 
told to me by the person most interested in it ; indeed I can 
see no harm in the fact being known. Since I saw you this 
morning, a detective has been at the Cedars.” 

“ A detective ! ” exclaimed the curate in a tone which 
betrayed something more than simple curiosity, while Yorke 
continued to whistle softly with unshaken complacency. 

“A detective from London,” said I impressively, “who, 
tempted by the large reward offered by Admiral Strong, has 
undertaken to discover the author of the crime committed 
here last June.” Here I sipped my tea, and asked for a 
little more sugar, not to be outdone by Yorke in pretended 
indifference. The curate was the worst actor of the three ; 
instead of giving me the sugar I asked for he flooded my cup 
with milk, and with such an unsteady hand that he felt it 
necessary to offer an excuse for his want of self-command. 

“Your information has quite agitated me, I declare,” 
said he, “ but it is very natural that I should feel deeply con- 
cerned in anything relating to the murder of my deah old 
friend and master. And do you really believe this detective 
is likely to succeed ? ” 

“ He is so confident of it that he is willing to accept 
payment by result for his services.” 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


197 


Excuse me, sir, for chipping in,” said Yorke, “but what 
might you mean by that ? ” 

“ He undertakes to recover the will in three weeks for the 
reward already offered by the admiral,” 

“ I am enlightened,” said Yorke, returning to his monoto- 
nous occupation. 

“ But, my dear Mr. Holderness, what necessity was there 
to make known his intentions ? the reward has been pub- 
licly offered, and is open to anyone who has the power to 
win it.” 

“ That is so, parson ; ’pears to me this detective is a clam 
as regards intelligence.” 

“ The reward is no longer open to anyone,” said I, “ the 
detective stipulates on the admiral revoking his offer in order 
that the will may be rendered valueless to the person who 
stole it.” 

“ That alters the ’pearance of things, parson,” Yorke ob- 
served. 

“ But, deah Mr. Shuttle, if the will is rendered valueless, 
there is no inducement to the thief to preserve it ; and if he 
destroy it how can the detective recover it .? ” 

“ Mebbe,” observed Yorke, “ the officer calculates on trad- 
ing with the thief who might feel disposed to sell up at a 
discount. That’s how things are usu’ly fixed up in our 
country, but whether your police are educated up to that 
pi’nt I am unable to say.” 

“ But that would imply, my deah sir, that the detective is 
acquainted with the thief.” 

“ He is,” said I sharply. 

The curate fixed me with his little blue eye for a moment, 
then he shot a glance at Yorke who, closing one eye, was 
critically examining the pointed stick with the other. 

“ At any rate,” I added, “though of course he would give 
no names, he led the admiral to believe that he had no doubt 
whatever on that point.” 

Mr. Shepherd made an attempt to conceal his agitation, 
by bending over his tea-cup, but I saw beads of perspiration 
standing on his temples. I took a slice of bread and butter. 

“And what is Mr. Sherridan’s opinion on the subject?” 
asked Mr. Shepherd breaking the silence. “ He has studied 
for the bar and should have special knowledge of such mat- 
ters.” 

“ He entertains but little hope of the will being recovered, 


KITTY^S FA THER. 


198 

maintaining that the detective’s chief object is to run the 
murderer to earth.” 

Once more Yorke began to whistle through his teeth. 

“ Deah me ! Did he tell you his grounds for supposing 
that ? ” 

Yorke had shut up his knife and was brushing the chips 
from his knees. I thought it best to ’come to the point 
speedily. 

“ He bases his supposition, I believe, on the measures 
about to be taken by the detective.” 

“Do you know the nature of those measures, my deah 
friend t ” asked the curate eagerly. 

“ In the first place,” said I, raising my voice a little, that 
Yorke might not lose a word, “ he is about to offer a reward 
of a thousand pounds, not for the recovery of the will, but 
for such information as shall lead to the conviction of the 
murderer.” 

Yorke, rising from his chair gave a contemptuous chuckle : 
the curate’s face lost half its terror as he heard it. Turning 
to Yorke he asked, in earnest solicitude : 

“ May I ask, Mr. Shuttle, why that measure excites your 
amusement ? ” 

“I laughed, parson, at the simplicity of folks in this coun- 
try. I do not wish to wound your national pride, but allow 
me to remark that on our side, a detective officer that couldn’t 
show a better hand than that, would be advised to stand out 
of the game. In our state a man who has to advertise for 
someone to help him, wouldn’t get ten cents a day to hunt up 
lost hogs. Good-afternoon, Mr. Holderness.” 

And with that he turned on his heel and entered the house, 
leaving me at the very moment that I was about to show him 
the real danger of the situation. 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


199 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

A TERRIBLE ADVENTURE. 

I DID not Stay long with the Rev. Mr. Shepherd after 
Yorke left us. The purpose of my visit was frustrated ; and 
vexed with myself for not having made better use of my 
opportunity, exasperated with Yorke for his perverse indiffer- 
ence to the warning which he must have seen it was my 
object to convey, I felt ill-disposed to continue conversation 
with the curate. As I expected, he tried to learn the name and 
address of the detective from me, but I professed to know 
neither, and indeed added nothing to the information I had 
already given, seeing that the terror I had already inspired 
was sufficient to precipitate the catastrophe I dreaded. 

When I rose to go, he begged me to “ stay a little longer,” 
but in such a half-hearted way that I saw he was as anxious as 
I, to end our tete-a-tete. From the moment he perceived 
that nothing more was to be got out of me, his conversa- 
tional powers collapsed and his incoherent replies to the gen- 
eral remarks I made, showed that his thoughts were wan- 
dering elsewhere. I could see he was w'eighing the probabili- 
ties of escape, and thirsting to take counsel with Yorke, whose 
bolder spirit might revive his sinking courage. 

I returned to the Cedars with my book, crestfallen and 
most unhappy. The observations I had made in the course 
of this interview confirmed my worst apprehensions. Yorke’s 
defiant attitude in the face of danger showed his capability 
for the boldest and most reckless enterprise ; the curate’s 
demeanor displayed barely the hardihood to brazen out a 
passive part in the crime. It was impossible to conceive 
that the panic-stricken wretch, quailing at the first hint of 
discovery, could have mustered the nerve and physical 
strength to murder the vicar and dispose of his body after- 
wards. 

“ It’s no good,” I said to myself in this state of depression, 
“ I have done all that I can. It’s useless to attempt more. 
Is it likely that a strong-willed, obstinate man like Yorke will 


200 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


submit to the guidance of an old fellow like me ? It is clear 
that he regards my efforts with contempt, and will go his own 
way though it lead to the devil. Well, let him go to the 
devil ; I'll not stand in his w'ay ! ” But when the feeling of 
exasperation which provoked this anathema wore off, and I 
thought of poor Kitty and the heritage of shame in store for 
her, a better sentiment took its place, and I resolved that I 
would try again and again to avert the calamity of a public 
exposure of her father’s crime, and suffer no rebuffs to turn 
me from my purpose. I saw that I might find another oppor- 
tunity of communicating with Yorke when I returned the book 
I had borrowed. “ The advertisement will not appear before 
Saturday,” thought I, “ and if I take the book back to-mor- 
row and warn him, he will have a clear day to get away before 
Shepherd can betray him to Singleton.” 

However, a chance of approaching Yorke without the 
curate’s knowledge presented itself earlier than I expected. 

Miss Strong had organized a singing-class in the village 
which she herself conducted, and as the weekly meeting was 
to be held that evening, she asked us if we should like to 
accompany her. Of course we readily accepted the invita- 
tion, and at eight o’clock we started out together for the vil- 
lage school-room, where, arriving a little behind the hour, we 
found the choir already assembled. The lamps were lit ; 
there was a hum of voices and laughter ; the young men and 
girls stood in groups, all with smiling happiness on their 
faces, and I was saying to myself that here, at any rate, one 
could escape for an hour or two from lugubrious thoughts of 
crime, when my eye suddenly fell upon the sandy-haired 
curate who, the one solitary figure in the room, was gravely 
dusting the harmonium, at which Miss Strong was to sit, with 
his pocket-handkerchief. It had never entered my imagina- 
tion that he would be there, though it was the most natural 
thing in the world that he should take part in a function of 
this kind, especially as Miss Strong presided over it. 

I looked round for Yorke. He was not there. Then it 
occurred to me that if I could get away before Shepherd saw 
me, I could go to the vicarage, find Yorke, and tell him all 
that was on my mind with no fear of interruption or dis- 
covery. 

Happily Miss Strong had stopped in the entrance hall to 
speak to a friend, and no one as yet had observed me. With 
a forlorn smile the curate was now dusting Miss Strong’s 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


201 


music-stool. I drew back stealthily, and passed out unseen. 
Jack was standing a little apart from Miss Strong and her 
friend. I drew him aside and told him I felt indisposed, and 
begged him to make whatever excuse he could for me should 
Miss Strong observe my departure. 

“ Nothing serious, old fellow ? ” he asked, walking with me 
slowly to the door. 

“ No, no. I shall be all right in the fresh air,” said I, 
and with that I made my escape. 

The church clock chimed the half-hour past eight as I 
reached the vicarage. The gate was locked. I raised my 
hand to ring the bell, but I paused with the reflection that 
possibly Yorke would be less anxious to see me than I was to 
see him. He had every reason to expect a pretty long string 
of reproaches and complaints from me, and to escape my 
Jeremiads he might think it advisable, on seeing who was at 
the front gate, to slip out at the back gate for a quiet stroll. 

“ I’ll not give you the chance, hang you,” said I, apostro- 
phizing him in imagination. “ You shall hear me out to-night 
whether you like it or not.” 

So I went on to the Cedars where the gates were unfastened, 
passed quietly through the front garden, worked my way 
round to the back, and got into the orchard without being 
seen by a soul. There was still light enough to make out 
whereabouts the house lay, and after climbing the iron rail- 
ing, I made my way through the orchard, and skirting the 
hedge on the further side, found a wicket-gate opening into 
the vicarage garden. The black silhouette of the roof and 
chimney-stacks now stood out above the evergreens before 
me, and I was pushing on at a brisk pace, anxious only to 
take Yorke by surprise, when the sound of laughter fell upon 
my ears and caused me to stop abruptly. 

The laughter was not loud, yet it was too distinct to come 
from the road, which was further removed from me than the 
house. I listened attentively. Presently I heard the faint 
murmur of distant voices. I could not doubt that the sound 
came from the house, and the question which had never be- 
fore occurred to me, now crossed my mind : were there more 
confederates than Yorke and Shepherd in this crime ? was the 
vicarage a refuge for other criminals besides them .? 

I own that this question excited a most uncomfortable 
sense of personal apprehension. I am not a particularly 
strong man ; my spirit is not of what one may call the^ dare- 


202 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


devil sort ; and I confess that on hearing this sound, and con- 
juring up in imagination the set of villains who might be 
assembled in the vicarage, I felt very strongly disposed to 
retrace my steps, and get back to the Cedars as quickly as 
possible ; and a very plausible reason for doing so. presented 
itself. “ What,” I asked myself, “ is the use of seeking to 
get a private word or two with Yorke if he is not alone } and 
what may be the consequences of intruding myself upon 
company of this kind without invitation } They may take 
me for a spy and an informer, and whatever lenience Yorke 
may feel towards me, is not likely to be shared by a set of 
villains unrelated to me.” Fears which I am now ashamed 
to admit besieged me then, as recollections of the desperate 
means by which villains silenced the hapless discoverer of 
their secret meetings crowded my brain. 

The evening was still and oppressively hot ; not a breath 
of air stirred the leaves of the tree-tops that stood out sharp 
and black against a long gray rift in the dark clouds ; where 
I stood in the shrubbery, there was so little light that I could 
see nothing but foliage on each side, and a few feet of the path 
before me. It was ghostly, terrifying, and this effect with 
the suffocating closeness, put me in a bath of perspiration. I 
would have given anything to be back in the admiral’s pad- 
dock, and should certainly have retreated, but that, having 
heard no repetition of the sounds that first excited my alarm, 
it struck me that I ought at least to make sure that Yorke was 
not alone before yielding to the influence of fear. 

Advancing with great care and noiselessly, I suddenly 
found myself at a bend in the path, facing the side of the 
house, my position being almost parallel with the front. The 
trellis supporting the veranda with the climbing plants 
trained upon it, reflected a light from the library. Yorke was 
in there ; but was he alone ? I dared not go to him until 
that question was answered. Silence was not a sufficient 
assurance ; I must look into the room, before I ventured even 
to make myself heard. With a view to getting a point of 
view facing the library window, I edged my way along the 
flower border that skirted the lawn, with no other screen but 
the shadow of the dark evergreens behind me. 

I had not proceeded above half-a-dozen paces, when the 
murmur of voices again struck upon my ear. I stopped, 
holding my breath to catch the sound more distinctly. The 
murmuring continued, broken by an occasional pause. I was 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


203 


Still too far removed to make out what was said, or to distin- 
guish by the tone of the voices whether Yorke was one of the 
speakers ; but it was no longer possible to doubt whence the 
sound came. That was enough for me ; my sole object now 
was to get out of the grounds as quickly as possible. 

Unfortunately I fancied I saw a way of getting out quicker 
than I came in. There was an opening in the evergreens at 
my back, which I concluded led directly into the kitchen gar- 
den ; and thinking by this way to avoid retracing my steps 
along the open lawn, I drew back, keeping my eye on the 
house. I felt a slight rise in the ground, but taking no heed 
of this in my eagerness to escape, I made another step back- 
wards. The next instant my foot slipped with a crash through 
a glazed propagating frame sunk in the earth, and in saving 
myself from falling, the other foot crashed through a second 
sheet of glass. 

As I recovered my equilibrium, I glanced with horror 
towards the house. The whole place was in darkness ; the 
light must have been extinguished almost simultaneously with 
the noise of the accident that had befallen me. I stood there, 
up to my knees in the broken frame, not daring to move, for 
1 could hear the broken glass tinkling beneath me with the 
trembling of my legs, and I knew that any attempt to extri- 
cate my feet, and escape, would lead to a discovery of my 
whereabouts and a pursuit. 

It would be time enough for me to make a dash for cover, 
when I was better informed as to where the enemy was. I 
could not suppose that the men would sit tranquilly in the 
house, after hearing the crash which betrayed the near 
presence of a stranger. I had warned Yorke in the afternoon 
that a detective was on the track : what more natural conclu- 
sion could he form, than that this enemy had introduced him- 
self into the grounds with the purpose of discovering his se- 
cret ? The sudden extinguishing of the light proved that he 
and his confederates were engaged in some occupation which 
might not be seen, and that they were alarmed. 

But if they had come from the house, where were they ? I 
could see no one, though the obscurity was not sufficient to 
conceal from my straining eyes some indication of moving 
figures', had they come upon the lawn. Possibly their instinct 
told them that the open lawn was the last place where a 
marauder would be found, and they had at once struck out to 
lie in wait for me at those points which I must pass in mak- 


204 


KITTY^S FATHER. 


ing my escape. For aught I knew, they might be just behind 
me, or within pistol-shot of me on my right or on my left. 
There was no reason why they should not put a bullet in me 
if they caught me making off. Yorke, in his character of an 
American, might take the blame on himself for my mortal 
injury, by declaring that he mistook me for a thief, and 
pleading custom as his right to shoot trespassers. 

“ I’ll stay here all night,” said I to myself, “ rather than 
run the risk of being shot by these bloody-minded ruffians.” 
So I stood there, bending low, that my white shirt front and 
collar and my face, which I doubt not was scarcely less white, 
would not betray me, and waited. 

But I was not altogether idle. It struck me that when the 
curate returned, York or another would have to go and let 
him in. This would lessen the number of enemies on the 
look-out for me, by one ; and I might then perhaps withdraw, 
at least from my present position, which might become unten- 
able if the moon rose, and its light fell on me in my exposed 
situation. With infinite precaution, I loosened and removed 
the pieces of glass that surrounded my legs, and succeeded 
at length in clearing a space sufficiently large to allow of my 
getting my feet out of the frame without any fresh breakage. 

I know not how long this operation took me, but I seemed to 
have been standing there an age, when at last the sonorous 
gate bell rang. I determined that as soon as I saw anyone 
cross the lawn in the direction of the gate, I would certainly 
make an attempt to escape, come what might, and I ranged 
the lawn with my eyes in eager expectancy. But no one 
appeared ; not a movement or a sound showed that anyone 
intended to go to the gate. 

The delay was so long, that I began to expect the bell to 
be rung again, when I saw two figures emerge from the dark- 
ness, and saunter across the lawn, not towards the gate but 
from it ; and my eyes being now accustomed to the obscurity, 
I made out clearly enough that one of the figures was Yorke 
and the other Shepherd. Yorke must already have been on 
the other side of the lawn when the bell rang ; and he must 
have worked his way round by the back of the house, and the 
path behind the shrubbery towards the outbuildings, or I 
must have seen him. They were talking, but in a tone that 
made their conversation unintelligible to my ear, and having' 
crossed the lawn, they entered the house by the open window 
of the library. “ Now’s the time,” said I to myself, and draw- 


KITTY FATHER. 


205 


ing up my feet, one after the other carefully, I got out of the 
frame without noise, and emboldened by this achievement, 
groped my way softly through the shrubbery, through the 
kitchen garden in safety, and reaching the orchard, made a 
fair bolt for the paddock, which I gained in safety and with 
a sense of relief for which I can find no words. 


2o6 


KITTY^S FA THER. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

I GAIN MY OBJECT AT LAST. 

The adventure which had stricken me with real terror in 
the darkness of night, had a much less frightful aspect when 
I looked back at it the next morning. Indeed, when I fig- 
ured myself standing in a cucumber frame for a couple of 
hours, too frightened to stir, I perceived that the incident had 
almost a ludicrous side. And after all, what had my discov- 
ery amounted to ? — simply that there were other inmates, pos- 
sibly only one other, of the vicarage besides Yorke and the 
curate. The existence of a third party to the crime was 
scarcely surprising ; the concealment of the fact added to the 
mystery which surrounded the crime, but neither increased nor 
diminished the sum of Yorke’s guilt. As for the band of des- 
peradoes conjured up in my terror-stricken imagination as 
prowling about with pistols to take my life, their existence was 
made so unreal by the light of reason and calm reflection, that 
I ceased to think of them except with a blush for my pusilla- 
riomity. 

And being, after a good breakfast, as bold as I had been 
cowardly over night before the supper which I was too much 
upset to eat, I resolved to persevere in the attempt to com- 
municate with Yorke and carry out the intention I had made 
before my unlucky nocturnal expedition. So having written 
in a bold hand on a slip of paper these words : “ I must and 
will see you privately. Appoint a place of meeting,” and 
placed the slip between the pages of the book I had borrowed 
from Yorke, I tucked the volume under my arm and went 
round to the vicarage by the road. I rang the ball, and after 
a little delay Mr. Shepherd came down and opened the gate. 
He had a smut on his nose, his face looked more than usually 
warm and greasy, he wore a threadbare old coat, and a pair 
of wash-leather gloves. 

“ Had it been anyone but you, deah Mr. Holderness,” he 
said, “ I should have had to keep you waiting a little longer 
while I changed my attire ; for you have caught me quite in 
the midst of my little domestic occupations.” 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


207 


Taking this exception in my favor as a compliment, I 
thanked him for not standing on formalities with me, and 
showing him the book, told him that, with his permission, I 
would give it back to Mr. Shuttle himself. 

“You will find him in the library,” said he, “reading his 
newspaper ? ” and then as he walked by my side with his minc- 
ing, springy gait, he told me of the “ great treat ” he had had 
in meeting “ deah Mr. Sherridan ” at the singing class. 

Yorke was seated in the library with his hat on, one leg 
thrown over the arm of his chair, reading a newspaper which 
he had rolled on a stick in the American way. Mr. Shepherd 
stood beaming at the open vdndow as I took the book in and 
laid it on the table before Yorke. 

I had my finger between the pages where I had placed the 
slip of paper, and I managed to draw it out so that Yorke 
might see it as I thanked him for the loan ; but he regarded 
me with such stolid indifference, as he listened and replied to 
me, that I almost doubted if he had taken the trouble to ob- 
serve what I did. However, I had scarcely left the room 
when he called to me, and meeting me at the window as I re- 
turned, handed me my slip of paper saying : 

“ I guess this ain’t in the m.venX.OTy ; ’pears to be a book- 
mark you’ve fixed in the cover.” 

I was about to declare that I knew nothing about it, when 
I perceived that a few words were pencilled under my mes- 
sage. I took it, saying it was a note I had made in reading, 
and, thanking him again, slipped it in my waistcoat pocket. 
As soon as I was clear of the vicarage I took the slip eagerly 
from my pocket and read what Yorke had written : 

“ Scarborough race-course, 2 to-morrow.” Those were the 
words ; though how he had contrived to fix the appointment 
in the time almost passed my comprehension. Probably he 
guessed the purport of the paper the moment he saw it, and 
had got the pencil ready in his pocket to write a reply before 
I left the room ; but the quickness of thought and act was 
not less marvellous to me than a conjuror’s sleight of hand. 

It struck me that he might very well have appointed a 
meeting-place where we should be free from observation 
without making me journey right to the other side of England. 
“ However,” said I to him in imagination, “ if you think dis- 
tance will baulk me, you are very much mistaken ; and though 
it may not be the easiest thing in the world to pick out the 
person you’re looking for, from the crowd on a race-course, I’ll 


2o8 


KITTY'S FA TIIER. 


find you, my man, if you’re there, and a nice dressing-down 
I’ll give you ! ” 

Fortunately two or three letters had been forwarded on to 
me from the Mill-House, and taking one of them as a pretext, 
I told Jack when we went upstairs before lunch that I had 
business to do at Scarborough that would take me away the 
next morning. 

“ Business won’t detain you there long, I hope ? ” said Jack 
interrogatively. 

“ Not more than a day or two, I expect.” 

“ So much the better, for you see I feel, more distinctly than 
ever, that I was not made to live alone.” 

“ Why you’re not alone here,” said I. 

“ N — no ; but I think this is a good occasion to terminate 
our visit, which has already extended a day or two beyond our 
anticipation. From what I observed last night I am perfectly 
sure that rascal Shepherd will make Miss Strong an offer of 
marriage as soon as I am out of the way. He walked home 
with us from the schoolroom and we worked him up into a 
fever of jealousy and avaricious fear. Miss Strong played 
the part of a coquette to perfection, and I would talk of noth- 
ing but the gun and the wonderful results to be obtained by 
sinking a few thousands in bringing it to perfection. If we 
leave to-morrow. Miss Strong, I know, will give him an oppor- 
tunity of speaking on Sunday. Then when he sees his case 
is perfectly hopeless, you may depend upon it he won’t hesi- 
tate to give up the will — unless,” he added, seeing a doubt in 
my face, “ unless the other rascal. Shuttle, prevents him.” 

I vowed in my heart that Yorke should not prevent the 
restoration of the will ; but I felt less confident in my influ- 
ence over him just then, for my spirits had been greatly 
damped by a letter from poor Kitty, 

“ Faith, uncle darlint,” she wrote, with an attempt to be 
gay in the midst of her troubles, “ it’s a sore heart your little 
Kitty has at this moment, and that’s the truth. Do you re- 
member, dear, how you used to take me on your knee, and 
coax me into confessing my grief when you saw me down- 
hearted, and how you led me to laugh in the end at the little 
trouble that threatened to make me cry ? ’Tis just such com- 
forting kindness that I need now. Dear, I put my arm round 
your neck, and hide my face against your shoulder in the old 
way that you may not see what a child. I am still — but how 


KITTY'S FA TIIEK. 


209 

shall I tell you all that I feel without the coaxing and a ten- 
der word of sympathy to encourage confession ? 

“ I must own, to begin with, that I feel a little bit vexed 
with you, uncle dear, and the feeling, I think, springs from 
jealousy. I did not feel really happy when I heard that you 
were going to visit these grand people at Chester, though, of 
course, I hoped that you would enjoy yourself with them, and 
I am not at all glad that you find them so much more agree- 
able than you expected. I can’t like Miss Strong any the 
more because she is amiable and handsome, and an excellent 
musician. You did not tell me whether she was short or 
tall ; but, if she is the latter, I know I should hate her com- 
pletely. This shows that I am jealous. But, have I no 
reason to feel envious, and, as I hinted, just a little bit vexed 
with you ? For why should you go to see people whom you 
scarcely knew, when you knew (or should have known) that 
your Kitty was hungering to see you ? Are you waiting to 
be invited ? Must I tell you that I want you ? Will you 
come to me when you leave the Cedars ? I love you, and 
need you so much that I can humble myself to accept you at 
second hand. 

“ Of course the question of expense has nothing to do with 
your coming ; but I may tell you, as a matter of fact, that 
living is cheap here, and that I know of lodgings to be let 
near the Phoenix Park which would be simply perfect if they 
were humanized with the scent of my dear old uncle’s pipe. 
One other fact should be mentioned, which is, that I have 
put by a purse full of money, which I have no heart to spend 
on myself. I have found out the cause of my wretchedness 
— it is this separation. The best of friends are nothing in 
comparison with an uncle, someone whose heart and soul is 
part of myself. I have felt this as I have never felt it before 
leaving you. And this craving for one’s kin turn my thoughts 
constantly towards my father. I want to see him, to help 
him, to be of some real good to him — to be, in fact, his 
daughter, and not the stranger I have been kept — rightly, 
perhaps, while I was too young to think and act seriously. 
But this is too grave a subject to open in a letter, which, I’m 
afraid, exposes a very weak side of my character — still, grave 
subjects are not to be set aside altogether, and when we are 
happily together again, I shall expect you to help me in find- 
ing out how to make my father happier. 

“ 1 am better for opening my heart ; less vexed with you, 

14 


210 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


more at peace with myself. I raise my face now, with only 
a little blush for my weakness, and bid you good-night with 
a very loving feeling in my heart. 

“ Your Kitty.” 

“ P.S. — I will write again to-morrow, and tell you all the 
news, and I think you might do the same. Your letters are 
tantalizing : you do leave so much to my imagination. I 
should like to know if Mr. Sherridan is writing another play ; 
and what are the subjects you converse about when you are 
alone. It always seemed to me that his talk — even his small 
talk — was better worth remembering than anything one could 
find in printed books. Does he interest himself in music 
now that he is staying with such musical people ? Cannot 
you give me a more definite description of Miss Strong-r— 
what sort of eyes has she, is she a prude or a flirt, is she tall } 
— no, on second thoughts, I don’t want to hear another word 
about her. Good-night, dear.” 

I longed and yet dreaded to answer this letter in person. 
My heart fluttered with joy at the thought of seeing the dear 
girl again and renewing our old course of life, trotting out 
with her marketing after breakfast, or dropping into the 
theatre for rehearsal, with the attendant bustle and gossip, 
putting on our best for an hour’s stroll in the afternoon, 
observing her across the footlights at night, and then going 
home together to supper, with all the little incidents attend- 
ing the nightly performance to talk about and discuss. Oh, 
yes, my dear Kitty was quite right — the best of friends (and 
no man could wash for a better than I had in Jack) was not 
to be compared with one’s own flesh and blood. 

But that which damped the pleasure with which I medi- 
tated going to Dublin and rejoining Kitty, was the difficulty 
of answering the questions she would put with regard to her 
father, without betraying all I knew and suspected of his evil 
ways. Clearly, she had made up her mind to know the truth 
about him, and it seemed to be merciful to keep her in 
ignorance. Unable to make up my mind either one way or 
the other, whether to yield to the inclination of my heart and 
go, or to obey the hard dictates of reason and stay away, I 
said to myself it would be time enough to decide the ques- 
tion when I had sounded Yorke to the very core. 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


21 1 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 
kitty’s father makes a promise. 

Owing to a delay at Malton, it was past one when the train 
reached Scarborough, and, by the time I got to the race- 
course, it was nearly two. The first race was about to be 
run, and, as I surveyed the throng of people densely packed 
along the course, I owned to myself that I was a fool to have 
been led on such a wild-goose chase, for there seemed as 
little chance of finding Bob Yorke in such a crowd as a needle 
in a bottle of hay. 

I skirted the pressed ranks bewildered by the multitude of 
faces, deafened by the babel of voices and the hoarse cries 
of the bookmakers. But the confusion was greater when the 
race was run, for then the mob, dispersing like a swarm of 
ants, rendered circulation impossible ; my toes were trampled 
on, and my clothes nearly torn off my back by the roughs 
pushing and driving to get at the bookmakers, while the 
shrieking of steam whistles on the roundabouts, the banging 
of drums, and the ringing of bells in the shows, together with 
the shouting of men hailing each other, the mad cursing, 
swearing, and laughing around me, created a din that para- 
lyzed one’s faculties. However, I pushed forward, looking 
this way and that, with no clear idea of the way I was going, 
or any definite scheme of finding my man until I was fairly 
exhausted by my efforts, and only too glad to find a space 
against the course rail, where I could stand and fetch my 
breath without danger of being knocked over. The frantic 
rush was over, and the crowd was congregating round the 
gamblers and sharpers, who had come there to trade on the 
avarice and credulity of the mob. I was in the thick of these 
gentry, it seems, and had scarcely yet recovered my com- 
posure, when someone tapped me on the shoulder, and, as I 
turned, put a purse in my hand before I knew what he was 
doing. At the same time, a man, standing on a box sur- 
rounded by a circle of gaping idlers, took off his hat most 
politely, and addressing me, said : 

“ Does that there purse belong to you, my lord ” 


2 12 


KIT TV'S FATHER, 


I shook my head. 

“ Open it, and sed if the contents are yours — there are 
three half-crowns, I believe.” 

“ They are not mine,” said I, offering to return the purse. 

“No matter, my lord,” said he glibly, “ what is mine shall 
be yours, and what is yours shall be mine. Take the lot, 
three half-crowns and the purse for two and six ? No ? Hand 
me the purse if you please, that I may show you there is no 
deception.” I had to enter the circle to return the purse. 
He took out the three half-crowns, threw them in again one 
by one, pattering all the while, and turned to the crowd. 
“ Now, I gives you all an equal chance and no preference to 
the nobility.” If the po’r man won’t have it, it shall go to 
Lord Noddy; you won’t? Very well, then, my honored 
friend (turning to me), it’s yours for two and six.” 

“ Take it, old laad,” said a voice at my elbow, in a broad 
North-country accent. 

I shook my head, and turning to the speaker, who I sus- 
pected was a confederate, I had it on my tongue to tell him 
that I Was not such a fool as I looked, when I recognized 
that the grinning countryman at my side, in a black Sunday 
suit and felt hat was none other than Kitty’s father. He 
turned on his heel, and sauntered off, I following amidst 
the burst of laughter raised by a witticism of the sharper at 
my expense. It was humiliating, to be found in such a posi- 
tion by the man I had come to call to account for his follies 
and his misdeeds. 

He sauntered on in front, from group to group until we 
were clear of the crowd, and then turning to me, said : 

“ You’ve a funny notion of keeping an appointment.” 

“ I couldn't have hit on a likelier place to find you, it 
seems, than in a collection of rogues and vagabonds,” said I, 
sharply. 

“ They’re not all rogues and vagabonds,” he retorted 
slyly, “ and so perhaps I did not make a bad shot in looking 
for you there.” 

After this skirmish, we walked on in silence. Yorke’s brisk 
pace indicating a set purpose. Turning up a back street in 
the town, he led the way into a respectable eating-house and 
upstairs to a dining-room looking on the street. At this 
hour the town was deserted. There was no one in the 
dining-room, and when the attendant had served us with the 
cold beef and ale which Yorke, in his broad dialect had 


KITTY^S FA THER. 


213 


ordered, we were left quite alone. We were both hungry, and 
opened our mouths only to eat and drink till our cravings 
were appeased. 

“ Well,” said Yorke at length, “what have you got to say to 
me, Dick ? ” 

“ Read that,” said I, putting the newspaper before him, 
which I had bought at Chester before starting, and pointing 
to Singleton’s advertisement. 

He read it as he munched a mouthful of bread in silence, 
and then held the paper to the light to decipher the address 
at the foot of the announcement, which was blurred in the 
printing. “ Oh, Singleton, Chancery Lane,” said he with a 
contemptuous jerk of the head, as he laid down the paper 
and cut himself another slice from the joint. 

“ He’s not to be despised,” said I, “ and I only wish you 
had as much perception as he, for then you would see yx)ur 
daughter, and save yourself while there is yet time.” 

“ What danger ? — the chance of someone seeing th'at ad- 
vertisement who could swear to having seen me do for ” I 

stopped him with a gesture of terror, for low as his voice was 
1 dreaded an eavesdropper, and said in a whisper : 

“ That’s a small chance, I admit, but there’s worse to fear 
than that.” 

“ What .? ” 

“ The treachery of a confederate : what effect will this 
advertisement have on the curate ? ” 

“That’s what I should like to know.’’ 

“ I’ll tell you. Bob. It will lead him to betray you in order 
to save himself. If I am not mistaken, I saw him at Chester 
station this morning. When did you promise to return to 
the vicarage ? ” 

“ To-morrow.” 

“ Tnen take my word for it, he has gone up to London to 
see the detective Singleton.” 

“ Do you think so ? ” 

“ I’m sure of it. If you had observed him as I did the 
other day, you would have seen the signs of terror in his face 
when I told him of Singleton’s visit : when he found my 
statement confirmed by the advertisement in the Weekly 
Gazette this morning, you may be certain that he did not 
hesitate a moment as to the course he would take. I intended 
to warn you of his treachery the other day, but you wouldn’t 
wait to hear all I had to say.” 


214 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


“ A good job I didn’t. Shepherd can do without any- 
prompting of that kind.” 

“ The prompting would have made no difference, as he 
could not learn Singleton’s address until the advertisement 
appeared.” 

Yorke pushed aside his plate, set his elbow on the table, 
and dropping his jaw in the palm of his hand looked out of 
the window reflectively. I did not break his meditations, for 
I hoped that they would lead him to realize the peril of his 
situation. After a minute or two of silence he turned his 
head to me and said : 

“ How’s your legs, Dick — did you cut ’em much with that 
glass ? ” 

“ Never mind my legs,” said I in a fury ; “ it’s your worth- 
less neck we’ve got to think about.” 

“ That’s in no danger from Mr. Crawley Shepherd.” 

“ May be he is not the only partner you have to fear. 
Who was that you were with the other night 1 ” 

“ When you walked into the frame 1 Oh, he’s a friend of 
mine, a gentleman.” 

“ A pretty gentleman I should think, when you found it 
necessary to put out the light the moment you heard a foot- 
step. Is he an accomplice } ” 

‘Wes,” said Yorke, with a sullen nod. “ He’s in it.” 

“ And is he at the vicarage now ? ” I asked, taking advan- 
tage of Yorke’s unusual communicativeness. 

“ I expect he is — unless,” he replied, smothering a yawn, 
“ unless he’s gone up to town with Shepherd.” 

“ What,” I exclaimed, “ you can gape with indifference at 
the possibility of those two villains conspiring together in 
your absence to sell you to Singleton } ” 

“ Look here, Dick, I don’t care a rap for either of ’em, nor 
for Singleton either. They’re welcome to conspire together 
in my absence as much as they like. They can’t touch me.” 

“ What do you mean by that, Bob,” I asked with a sudden 
flash of hope, “ that your share of guilt is less than theirs ? 
that they have more to fear by exposure of the crime than 
you have ? Tell me. Bob, and you’ll take an awful load off my 
mind.” 

'He regarded me in silence for a minute, and then, a gleam 
of kindness kindling in his face, he replied : 

“ Well, if it will make you easier, Dick, I’ll admit that I’m 
not the worst of the lot.” 


KITTY'S FA TIIER. 


215 


“ Thank God ! ” I exclaimed fervently, as I grasped his hand 
for the first time that day. “ If you had only told me this 
before, what a deal of anxiety you would have spared me.” 

“ It doesn’t do to open one’s mouth too wide, you’re such 
a chap to jump at conclusions.” 

“ You forced the conclusions by your own reticence,” said 
I. ‘‘ If you had only hinted that there was a third party con- 
cerned, it would have been different. But it’s obvious to 
everyone that the curate could not have done that deed alone 
— a weak-kneed, timorous wretch like that, and the natural 
inference was that you had taken the bolder part in the crime. 
Now, if you had not kept the other man out of sight ” 

“ Why, then we should not have put Singleton on a wrong 
scent. While suspicion falls upon me the other man is safe ; 
and suspicion won’t hang me.” 

“ By the way, who is this other man ? ” I asked, thinking to 
profit by his expansiveness. But he was not to be caught so 
easily, and smiling at me, he replied that I wanted to know 
too much. 

“ I can’t for the life of me think why you want to screen 
such a fellow as that,” said I. 

“ Honor amongst thieves ; come, now.” 

“ At any rate you can tell me one thing. Bob,” I said, 
insinuatingly, “ why on earth, have you taken up your quar- 
ters at the vicarage ? ” 

“ For one thing, it’s the last place in the world where one 
would look for the vicar’s murderer.” 

“ But that’s not all ; what are you doing there now ? ” 

‘ The same old game,” he replied cavalierly, “ the same 
game I was at when you met me at Liverpool.’^ 

“ And the same game that has brought you here to- 
day ” 

“ Oh, I don’t expect to do mudi here. I came principally 
to see you, and save you the trouble of tramping over the 
cucumber frames. Still I may pick up something,” he ob- 
served, reflectivel}^ as he scraped his jaw. 

I sank back in my chair with a sigh, and said no more, 
discouraged by the perception that he was still a thief and 
incorrigible. He pulled out his pipe and filling it, said : 

“ Now, Dick, you seem to have run to the end of your tether, 
I’ve got a few questions to put to you. To begin with,” 
lighting his pipe, “ how about Kitty I see she is still in 
Dublin.” 


2i6 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


“ Yes. I had a letter from her yesterday, and I’ve brought 
it with me for you to read.” 

He drew his chair towards me eagerly, as I opened my 
pocket-book. 

“ In the first place,” said I, handing him a packet, “ there 
are the bank-notes you gave her for a wedding present. 
Neither she nor I have touched a penny of the money since 
we knew how you came by it.” 

He took the notes in silence, and thrust them with a nod 
in his breast-pocket, as if they had been waste paper, looking 
all the while at the letters I was sorting. 

“ They are all in the same hand ; is it hers ? ” he asked. 

“ Yes ; she writes to me nearly every day. Ah, Bob, you 
don’t know the wealth of love and tenderness you have thrown 
away ! ” 

The pipe trembled in his lips ; he took it out impetuously 
and laid it down. 

“ It’s her last I want you to read. Ah, here it is. It isn’t 
a bit nicer than the rest — scarcely so nice, to my thinking, but 
it will reveal her feelings, and that’s what I want you to 
understand.” 

. He took the letter gently, and looked at the superscription 
as one might study a face to discover the character of the soul 
that animates it, then he opened it and read it slowly through. 
Watching his face with keen interest, I observed that a great 
change came over it. The hard look of dogged resolution, 
and sluggish calculation gave place to an expression of almost 
feminine tenderness and tremulous agitation. But for the 
lines of care and sorrow and hardship that marked his feat- 
ures, and the gray streaks in his hair I could have thought I 
was looking at the Bob Yorke of fifteen years ago. When he 
came to the end, he set his elbows on the table, and dropping 
his face in his hands bent over the letter, regarding the page, 
in deep silence. I did not move for fear of disturbing the 
meditations which I hoped would move his heart to some 
new and good departure. 

At length he raised his head, and, turning the letter, began 
to read it through again. At the foot of the first page he 
paused, and glancing at me, said : 

What’s your opinion of Mr. Sherridan, now ? ” 

“ The same that it always has been. He’s a fine fellow. 
There’s not a better in the world.” 


KITTY'S FA TIIER. 


217 

“ He has been paying a great deal of attention to Miss 
Strong these last few days.” 

“Yes, and to that precious gun as well ; but he has no 
more intention of making Miss Strong his wife than he has 
of ruining himself on the gun. It’s a comedy they are play- 
ing, to force the curate’s hand.” 

“ I thought so,” said he, nodding. “ Playing with fire is 
a dangerous game, though.” 

“ There’s no fear of his burning his fingers. He won^t give 
up the hope of marrying Kitty. Plis chief object in trying 
to discover the lost will is to overcome the objection Kitty 
raised to marriage. She had to make social inequality an 
excuse to conceal her real reason for refusing him. You 
know what that reason is.” 

He nodded, and turned the page in silence, 

“ She still loves him,” he observed, without taking his eyes 
from the paper. 

“ That is obvious,” said I ; “ she is jealous, not because I 
have been staying in the society of Miss Strong, but because 
he has.” 

He nodded again and read on ; and again he lingered over 
the last page. 

“ Well, Dick,” he said at length, “ what reply have you 
made ? ” ■ 

“ None, yet. I couldn’t write before I knew what might 
come of this interview ; and now I don’t see my way much 
clearer.” 

“ Shall you go to Dublin ? ” 

“ I should like to go, with all my heart. But I dare not. 
Kitty has a keen perception, and I am not a good actor. I 
should have to tell all I know.” 

“ Then you mustn’t go yet awhile,” said he, decisively. 

“ And yet you could make it easy enough,” said I. 

“ How ? ” 

“ By abandoning this course of life at once.” 

“That’s not so easy.” 

“ Where is the difficulty ? Throw in your lot with us. 
If you fail to find honest employment, you can draw on our 
common funds. It isn’t likely that we shall die of starvation, 
any of us.” 

“ No, but Kitty ? ” 

“ Well, she desires it, earnestly sincerely — you have read 
what she says ? ” 


2i8 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


“ Yes, and studied between the lines, too. I know she 
is sincere, and you, also, Dick. But what about Sherridan 1 
Will he marry her when he finds the man he suspects of 
murder, Decimus Shuttle, is her father ? ” 

This silenced me for a moment, for it was a complication I 
had not foreseen, then I said : 

“ I know that Kitty would never repine for the loss of a 
husband, if she saved her father.” 

“ No, Dick,” said he, firmly, “ that cannot be. My course 
is nearly run. I’ve had my day, hers has yet to come, and it 
shall be a happier one, please God.” 

“ If those are not merely idle words,” said I, seizing this 
moment of good feeling to urge him to a better course, “ if 
you are sincere in what you say, you will take the means that 
lie rjeady to your hand to make her happy.” 

“ What means ” he asked absently, gazing again at Kitty’s 
letter. 

“ Begin a new life.” 

“ At my age ? ” said he with a short laugh. 

“ At least you can make an effort to avoid public disclosure 
of past misdeeds. You have not destroyed that will ? ” 

“ No.” 

“ Have you got it with you ? ” 

“ No.” 

Then get it, without delay and restore it. Kitty’s suspi- 
cions are founded chiefly upon your possession of that. Mr. 
Sherridan will abandon the attempt to discover the author of 
this crime as soon as the will is produced; he must, for when 
his fortune goes to Admiral Strong he wall be too poor to pay 
Singleton to carry the investigation further. 

“ That’s an idea, Dick,” said Yorke, in a tone of surprise, 
as he looked at me. 

“ Come, Bob, promise me you will give up the will — promise 
it, for poor Kitty’s sake.” 

He rose and walked to the window in silence. Presently 
he turned about and said : 

“ I think I can promise that. But I must do it in my own 
time, and in my own way.” 

“ I will exact no more than that,” said I, rising, and 
having taken Kitty’s letter to him, I begged him to keep 
it, that his daughter’s presence might sustain him in his good 
resolution. 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


219 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

MR. CRAWLEY SHEPHERD MAKES LOVE. 

YoRKe took the letter and placed it in an inner pocket, with 
far more care than he -had bestowed on the hundred pounds’ 
worth of notes, pressed my hand in silent gratitude, and then 
abruptly ringing the bell for the waitress, put an end to fur- 
ther discussion. When the bill was settled he left me, the 
girl being still in the room, with the same air of off-handed 
indifference that characterized our meeting, and as if nothing 
whatever had occurred to excite the tender feelings which 
underlay the rude exterior of his strange nature. 

Having nothing now to detain me in Scarborough, I deter- 
mined to return to Chester at once, albeit I had started with 
the intention, as I told Jack, of joining him at the mill, about 
Tuesday or Wednesday. The fact is, I was too cheerful for 
solitude. I had drawn from Yorke an admission that he had 
taken but a minor part in the crime, and a promise that he 
would give up the stolen will : this was far more than I had 
dared to hope for, and consequently, I felt in that buoyant 
and hopeful condition which makes a man crave the society 
of a friend to whom he may impart some of his exuberant 
happinass. 

However, I was doomed to some disappointment in this 
matter, for on reaching the mill, between nine and ten, I 
found that Jack had not yet returned; from which I con- 
cluded that the admiral had prevailed on him to lengthen his 
stay at the Cedars. But with his usual forethought, he had 
sent word to Mrs.- Bailey, telling her to prepare for me in 
case I should return before he did. And fully the excellent 
woman had carried out his instructions : the lamp was lit in 
the dining-room, and the table spread, with a collection of 
good things, that would have gladdened the eyes of any man 
less hungry than I ; and, that I might not feel lonely, she 
lingered at the door, giving me all the local gossip, and some 
personal particulars, from which I learnt that she had been 
a widow hve years, and had no child except Jimmy, who 


220 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


would soon be old enough to earn his own living, though that 
was a matter of slight importance, as, thanks be to Provi- 
dence, she had quite enough to live on, and keep another 
besides comfortably. She was a buxom, good-looking woman, 
on the right side of fifty, with a fresh, healthy complexion 
and mirthful eye, a sound understanding, a social disposition, 
and, as I found, fond of a joke. Her conversation was so in- 
teresting and agreeable, and it was such a pleasure to look 
at her, that I was quite sorry when, having assured herself 
that she could do no more to make me comfortable, she bade 
me good-night, and went off with little Jimmy, who had come 
to fetch her. 

I spent the early part of the next morning in idling about 
the delightful old garden with a pipe, admiring the fruit in 
the orchard, watching the trout heading up against the stream, 
as I leaned on the moss-covered wall, thinking what a beau- 
tiful world this is, if only one gets into the right swim. 
Then I went indoors and wrote a long letter to Kitty, reply- 
ing in a cheerful spirit to hers, and telling her that I hoped, 
before long, to join her in Dublin. I could not help telling 
her in a postscript that we kept her portrait on the chimney- 
piece, and that Jack, when at home, never failed to put fresh 
flowers every day in the glasses beside it ; for I knew this 
would give her great pleasure to read, and banish dejection 
from her heart ; then I found a couple of hearts-ease to put 
between the pages, and closed the envelope. But it never 
struck me until I had posted the letter, that 1 had, perhaps, 
done wrong to revive a hope in her heart which I was still far 
from knowing could be realized. But that is the fault of my 
nature, and too often the impulse to give pleasure to my dear 
Kitty has blinded me to the wisdom of self-restraint. 

After dinner the irresistible desire to have a good talk with 
Jack came upon me with such force that I resolved to go over 
to St. Botolph’s ; so, as though I were lord and master of the 
place, I called little Jimmy from the orchard, where he seemed 
to be in a fair way of doing himself a mischief with the wind- 
falls, and bade him put the mare in the trap. 

I had never handled a pair of reins in my life ; however, 
feeling recklessly jolly, I thought I might venture, as it was 
Sunday, and I should not be likely to meet anything on the 
Toad; nevertheless, when Jimmy asked if he should accom- 
pany me, I accepted the proposal ; and very lucky it was that 
I did so, for, in pulling the rein too hard in turning the cor- 


KITTY^S FATHER. 


221 


ner, I took a splinter out of the gate-post, and in leaving it 
too loose, as I passed a perambulator, I as nearly as possible 
ran over the nurse, who had the presence of mind, thank 
heaven, to drive the vehicle into the ditch. After that I 
handed over the ribbons to little Jimmy, who seemed to 
derive considerable more enjoyment from these adventures 
than I did. 

When we reached St. Botolph’s, I perceived that children 
were coming out of the schoolroom, and the next moment I 
spied Miss Strong w'alking towards the Cedars, with the long- 
coated curate by her side. There was ineffable sweetness in 
his face as he assured me that he was so pleased to see me, 
though I believe he wished me at the bottom of the sea for 
interrupting his tete-h-tHe with Miss Strong. In the young 
lady’s expression there was a dash of wickedness, as she shot a 
covert glance at me from the angle of her bright eye. After 
the usual commonplaces, I asked if I should find Jack at the 
Cedars. 

“ Oh, no,” replied Miss Strong. “ We could not keep him. 
He had an appointment with Whitworth, or Armstrong, or one 
of those horrid gun people, and — he went. Wasn’t it unkind 
of him ? ” 

I assured her that all the guns in the world should not take 
me from the Cedars, if I were Jack, and then excusing my- 
self on the ground that I wished to post letters before the 
post-box was cleared, I raised my hat, and little Jimmy drove 
on. 

For the sake of giving consecutiveness to this narrative, I 
will venture to describe what issued between Mr. Shepherd 
and Miss Strong, from the account that young lady has since 
given me. 

“ I am afraid you are very, very angry with deah Mr. 
Sherridan for quitting you in this ungallant manner,” said the 
curate. 

“Naturally, I feel slighted,” replied Miss Strong, “though 
I know it is unreasonable on my part. Of course Mr. Sherri- 
dan feels that he ought to turn the affair to the greatest 
advantage, now that papa has given him the gun.” 

“ Given him the gun ! ” exclaimed the curate, aghast. 
“ That instrument which has cost him so many thousands of 
pounds ! ” 

“You see, poor papa felt that he should never have the 
means to bring it to perfection. I daresay, he ought to have 


222 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


sold it in order to pay some of his debts, but he is so impru- 
dent ! Ah, if he were the only imprudent person connected 
with this odious gun — if the folly ended with papa’s abandon- 
ment of this costly undertaking ! ” 

“ You allude to deah Mr. Sherridan. I fear he is even 
more reckless and extravagant than your papa. His whole 
career has been marked by thriftless improvidence and want 
of constancy. It is so sad, so shocking, in one with such 
great personal advantages.” 

“ What are the personal advantages of her husband to a 
wife, Mr. Shepherd } They cannot give that sense of security 
which is the richest dowry she can have.” 

“ How true. Miss Strong, how very true ! Alas, one sees 
too often that handsome beaux do not always make hand- 
some husbands.” 

Miss Strong assented with a sigh, and after a short interval 
said : 

“ I think you have seen Miss Yorke, Mr. Shepherd.” 

“ I have seen her,” he replied, with a scolding shake of the 
head. “ She is so pretty ; but I fear so flighty ! ” 

“ Do you know why her engagement with Mr. Sherridan is 
broken off ? ” 

“ Deah Mr. Holderness is a very prudent old gentleman, 
a very far-sighted and clear-headed old gentleman, and I 
think he must have sent Miss Kitty away from some pruden- 
tial motive. But whether he can always keep them asunder 
remains to be seen.” 

“ Ah, well,” said Miss Strong, with a sigh, “ I suppose I 
must make the best of it.” 

“ But will you be making the best of it, and not the worst 
of it, if, as you lead me to suppose, you actually meditate 
giving your fair, your beautiful hand, to Mr. Sherridan ? ” 

They had entered the garden of the Cedars, and Mr. Shep- 
herd, having artfully diverged from the main path into one 
of the sheltered walks, here took Miss Strong’s hand, and, 
after pressing it with fingers that felt like sausages, even 
through Miss Strong’s glove, he raised it to his lips. 

“ Oh, Mr. Shepherd,” remonstrated Miss Strong, “ you 
must not do that. You really mustn’t. For your own sake 
I must not permit you to go farther, and encourage a feeling 
which I cannot pretend to ignore ; for I confess candidly that 
if Mr. Sherridan asked me to-morrow to be his wife, I shall 
give that hand to him.” 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


223 

“ Oh, Miss Strong, would you marry a man whose fidelity 
you already have but too good reason to doubt ; whose foot 
is irrevocably set upon the downward path of pecuniary ruin ; 
whose absolute ruin I may predict with something more than 
the conviction of an ordinary observer ? ” 

“ Pray explain a little more clearly,” Miss Strong entreated, 
in a tone of anxiety. 

“ I shall endeavah to do so ; but will you not take a seat, 
deah, deah Miss Strong ? ” And Miss Strong, hesitating 
whether to yield or not to the temptation, he spread his '■'‘nice^ 
clean pocket-handkerchief ” over the seat, to protect her dress, 
and, taking her arm between his hands, helped to place her 
as though she were a babe or a cripple. 


224 


KITTY'S FA THEK 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

MISS STRONG PLAYS THE PART OF DELILAH. 

“ First of all, my deah Miss Strong,” said the curate, as he 
seated himself beside her, “ I must ask you one or two little 
questions. Have you seen the advertisement that appeared 
in the Weekly Gazette yesterday morning ? ” 

“ The reward that papa has offered through Mr. Singleton 't 
Yes.” 

“ And did Mr. Singleton tell you whom he suspects ? ” 

Oh, he was much too guarded to do that. If he had told 
papa whom he suspected, his services would have been un- 
necessary, for it would have been so much more direct to go 
at once to the police and have the wretch apprehended. Cer- 
tainly papa would never have offered to give so much money 
for what he could do himself. Indeed, we all think that Mr. 
Singleton has no knowledge whatever, or he would not need 
a reward offered for information, and has simply induced 
papa to change the form of his offer in the hope that some- 
thing may come from it. Oh, I am sure there’s nothing in 
all that.” 

Not so quick, deah little lady,” said Mr. Shepherd, tap- 
ping her arm in tender reproof, “ not so quick ! I think I 
shall show you that you are in error. When I read that ad- 
vertisement yesterday morning, I was seized with a. very great 
d2sire to know what it meant, and, as Mr. Shuttle had gone 
out for the day, I resolved to go up to London and see Mr. 
Singleton, for one should always profit by one’s opportunities 
to acquire knowledge. And so to London I went. I found 
Mr. Singleton in Chancery Lane, and told him very candidly 
who I was, and what I had come there to see him for. He 
was very pleased to see me, and, taking me into his little 
private office, he told me such strange things that I am prone 
to believe he will really win that sum of money your deah 
papa has offered.” 

“ No, Mr. Shepherd, you really must not do that,” said 
Miss Strong, gently, but firmly removing his hand, which he 
had gradually put upon her waist. 


KITTY^S FATHER. 


225 

“You naughty, unkind pussy!” exclaimed Mr. Shepherd 
in a tone of agreeable sorrow. 

“ Come, let us be serious : what was it Mr. Singleton told 
you that makes you think this .? ” 

“ Ah, now you make a demand, which I should be very 
reluctant to comply with, if I had not very great faith in your 
discretion. But before I do so you must give me that deah 
little hand, and promise not to tell your deah papa what I 
confide to you, for if he knew all he might commit some rash 
action which would entirely upset our little plans.” 

Miss Strong, overcoming her repugnance, yielded her hand ; 
but she had no occasion to give any promise, as the amorous 
curate was too transported with the delight of dabbling her 
hand in his to think of anything else for the time. When 
she withdrew her hand, he continued : 

“ W ell, deah, deah^ deah Miss Strong,” with gathering fervor, 
and a little pause to collect his thoughts, as he fanned his 
fevered face with his hat. “ Well, Mr. Singleton told me that 
he suspected two men of the crime, and hoped that the re- 
ward would lead one to betray the other, and when I asked 
him who those two men were, he replied that the principal 
one was,” looking round him and then dropping his voice to 
a whisper, “ Mr. Shuttle.” 

“ Mr. Shuttle ! ” exclaimed Miss Strong, in a low tone of 
feigned incredulity. 

“ I daresay you find it difficult to believe, and so did I ; 
for up to this time I have regarded him as a dear and generous 
friend, and a most worthy man. But when I expressed incre- 
dulity, Mr. Singleton smiled, and, unlocking a little drawer in 
his desk, drew out some photographs, and, laying them before 
me, asked if I recognized my dear friend in them. Some of 
them were quite faded with age, and some of them were quite 
fresh; one of them had the words, ‘John Evans, 1888,’ 
WTitten below, and another, James Blyth, 1879,’ and another 
‘ Colonel Denvers Plug, 1882 ’ one had whiskers, and a second, 
a moustache, and a third, a beard; but in all I saw an unmis- 
takable likeness to Mr. Decimus Shuttle.” 

“Is it possible t ” 

“ Those were my very words, to which Mr. Singleton re- 
plied that Mr. Shuttle had been known to the police for ten 
or twelve years, but that, up to the present time, they have 
been unable to get sufficient evidence to run him in — I use 
his expression. He told me that they suspected him of being 


226 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


concerned in certain burglaries at Birkenhead, and could pro- 
duce positive evidence to show that he was in Chester at the 
time of the races. You cannot tell what a shock it was to 
hear this, for I had trusted Mr. Shuttle so implicitly, and 
have been so delighted to cheer him up and bear him com- 
pany ; and when he proposed that I should return to Chicago 
with him, and undertake mission work amongst the cowboys 
and hog-stickers in that place, I quite believed he was in 
earnest. And when he proved, beyond doubt, that Mr. 
Shuttle was in Chester at that time, it made me sad 
— so very sad.” The expression of his face but faintly 
proved the truth of this assertion, and he continued with 
eagerness : 

“ Then I asked Mr. Singleton who the other man was 
whom he suspected, and he told me the man was an ex-convict 
named William Roberts ; and furthermore, he informed me 
that he himself saw this man slip out of the vicarage by the 
side-gate in Love Lane, on Thursday night, at the very 
moment I rang the bell on my return from the singing-class. 
What do you think of that, my dear Miss Helen ? ” 

. “ I don’t know what to think. It is so strange. Do you 
really believe it ? ” 

“ Oh ! I cannot doubt it. And truly, the more I ponder 
the matter, the more I am convinced that Mr. Singleton is 
right. And certain peculiarities in Mr. Shuttle’s behavior, 
which I attributed to his eccentricity have now a very dif- 
ferent significance for me. I can bear evidence that one 
night he went out when he had reason to believe that I w^as 
asleep in my little bed. He was absent two hours, and did 
not return till nearly three in the morning. And only this 
morning I discovered footprints in the garden, which do not 
at all correspond with Mr. Shuttle’s boots ; and also I found 
a beautiful propagating glass completely smashed, with the 
glass pressed into the earth, which verifies Mr. Singleton’s 
assertion, that William Roberts was there on Thursday even- 
ing, for I should have heard the glass breaking had the 
accident occurred at any other time.” 

At this point Miss Strong began to doubt whether Mr. 
Shepherd had actually taken part in the crime ; whether the 
sole malefactors were not Shuttle and Roberts ; and whether 
their suspicions had not fallen unjustly on the curate, through 
the impression he conveyed of being rather more of a rascal 
than a fool. 


KITTY 'S FA TIIER. 


227 

“ Was it not imprudent of Mr. Singleton to expose so much 
to you ? ” she asked. 

“ I cannot deny that it seemed to me a little indiscreet on 
his part ; but his reason for being so open with me was made 
abundantly evident by the fact that he wished me to co- 
operate with him in bringing Mr. Shuttle to justice.” 

“ Ah ! I begin to see.” 

“ He told me very plainly, that, as matters stand at present, 
there is not sufficient evidence to obtain even a search warrant, 
and that, until they can absolutely ^rove him to be in pos- 
session of the stolen property, it would be worse than useless 
to bring any charge against him. Then Mr. Singleton asked 
me a great many questions, and I told him all I knew about 
Mr. Shuttle, and explained fully how we became acquainted, 
and how, having no employment, and being greatly out of 
pocket through expending money every day, and earning 
nothing, and being of a naturally active disposition, and ever 
anxious to render services to my suffering fellow-creatures, I 
offered my services in the capacity of a gentleman help to 
Mr. Shuttle, in the fulness of my heart believing him to be 
what he represented himself ; and, furthermore, I told him 
that Mr. Shuttle has some very large trunks which taxed the 
strength of the porters who carried them upstairs — trunks 
which a single gentleman, travelling for the benefit of his 
health, would scarcely encumber himself withal — trunks which 
he keeps locked up in the room adjoining his bed-cham- 
ber, and has never yet opened in my presence. Whereupon, 
Mr. Singleton pointed out that Mr. Shuttle had certainly 
rented the vicarage for no other purpose than to store these 
trunks, where the police would be least likely to suspect 
that robbers would store their spoil ; and affirming that these 
trunks contained the very evidence he sought, Mr. Singleton 
straightway asked me if I were ‘ game ’ to examine these 
trunks, and obtain possession of the will stolen from my late 
deah master, the vicar. To which I replied that, much as I 
desired to further the ends of justice, I did not feel ‘ game ’ 
to risk having my brains blown out by Mr. Shuttle, who carries 
a revolver in a behind-pocket ; and, furthermore, that if I 
found an opportunity of making an investigation in Mr. Shut- 
tle’s absence, I had not the keys wherewith to open the door 
of that room, and the locks of those trunks. But Mr. Single- 
ton made light of this difficulty, and, taking a bunch of 
instruments from the drawer I have mentioned, instruments 


228 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


shaped like hooks of all dimensions, he showed me that, with 
a little practice after retiring to my chamber at night, I should 
soon be able to pick any lock in the world with them. And 
while I yet hesitated to comply with his suggestion, he prom- 
ised me that the day I gave him the will, he would pay me 
no less than five hundred pounds for my trouble.” 

“ And did you accept his offer ? ” asked Miss Strong, 
eagerly. 

“ No ; I told him that I was too conscientious to make a rash 
promise which I might not fulfil ; but I took the bunch of 
instruments.” 

“ And you have used them ? ” 

“ No ; Mr. Shuttle came home too soon after my return.” 

“ But you will try, won’t you, dear Mr. Shepherd ? ” said 
Miss Strong, employing a dash of blandishment to overcome 
the curate’s reluctance. 

“ I know you would like me to do so, you artful little Toot- 
sie,” said Mr. Shepherd archly, as he dabbed the back of her 
hand gently, “ but what would it profit me, if I obtained the 
will at one moment, and got my brains blown out in the next ? ” 

Miss Strong drew her hand away, but the curate was so 
preoccupied with inner speculations, that he continued to dab 
the palm of his own hand, fixing his glassy eye on the 
distance. 

“ Still,” he continued, “ five hundred pounds is a large 
sum. I know a very nice little living that I could buy with 
that sum and the little economies I have made. A very nice 
little living in the Essex marshes, where there is not much to 
do, and where one might keep a little model farm, and make 
a considerable addition to one’s income, by selling butter, and 
eggs, and poultry, and cut flowers, and feathered songsters, 
through advertising in the Christian Empire and other re- 
spectable papers. A very nice little living.” 

“ Surely you will not let such an opportunity escape you. 
The advantages are quite exceptional.” 

“ Yes, yes, yes, you’re a very clever little girl.” Mr. Shepherd 
warmed up again under the amatory flame. “ But I could 
not live in the Essex marshes alone. I should need some- 
one to aid me in parochial duties — someone to cheer my fire- 
side and toast my tea-cake — someone to pack the little 
articles for the parcel post. And you know who that some- 
one must be.” 

Miss Strong attempted to detach his hand, which had 


KITTY'S FATHER, 


229 


crept round her waist, but he held on tightly now, as he con- 
tinued : 

“ We shall be so nice and happy, so bright and busy, and 
we shall make such a lot of money.” 

“ That, in itself, is sufficient inducement, I should think, to 
accept Mr. Singleton’s proposal.” 

“ No, no, no. If I promise to get the will, you also must 
promise to be my little wifey.” 

“ As I cannot promise that, you must remove your hand — 
at once, if you please, or I shall be obliged to leave you.” 

“ Cruel, naughty, deah darling little thing ! ” Mr. Shep- 
herd exclaimed, with a wag of his head at each word, his teeth 
set with passionate fervor ; and then dashing the perspira- 
tion from his brow with the back of his hand, he continued : 
“ Do not say you refuse me. Why should you ? ” 

“ I cannot accept your offer ; and I cannot give you my 
reasons, without betraying a certain amount of worldliness 
which I am afraid would shock you.” 

“On the contrary, I should esteem you the more, for a 
due regard to those temporal advantages, without which the 
most fruitful living might be rendered unproductive.” 

“To begin with, then, I must consider papa. What is to 
become of him if, after all, the will is not found ” 

“ I have thought of him, deah old gentleman. I daresay 
I could fine some nice little occupation for him in the church, 
if he could kindly control his language ; or he might assist us 
in our little commercial pursuits.” 

The idea of her father officiating as pew-opener, or netting 
the “ feathered songsters ” which were to form part of Mr. 
Shepherd’s general business, so tickled Miss Strong’s imagina- 
tion, that she had to pause before replying, in order to re- 
cover a serious tone. 

“ I must explain our position,” said she, presently. “ It is 
a terrible one. Papa has not the means to pay all he owes, 
and I have not the experience or the ability to earn a living 
that would keep us both. I find myself pushed by circum- 
stances to the extremity of marrying for money. If I marry 
Mr. Sherridan it will be perfectly immaterial to us whether 
the will is recovered or not. For I know that Mr. Sherridan 
will pay my father’s debts, and I think I can rely on his 
making a settlement on me before his fortune is dissipated, 
which will at least put myself and my father beyond the 
danger of destitution. I will confess to you, Mr. Shepherd, 


230 


KITTY^S FA THER. 


that beyond friendship and a certain admiration for Mr, 
Sherridan’s accomplishments, I have no feeling whatever 
for him.” 

“ You do not love him ? ” 

“ No ; I solemnly protest that if it were not for the advant- 
ages I have pointed out, I would refuse to be his wife ; but I 
assure you with equal sincerity, that if he asks me to be his 
wife, these advantages being assured, I shall consent.” 

“ Oh, this is really painful ! Why should you marry a man 
whom you do not love, in whom you can have no confidence, 
no assurance of abiding affection, when I have offered you 
yet greater advantages — and I have promised to get the 
will.” 

“ It remains to be seen whether you can keep that prom- 
ise. The advantages in marrying Mr. Sherridan are cer- 
tain ; those you offer depend upon your ability to get the will 
from Mr. Shuttle. You cannot expect a young woman of 
my worldly disposition to abandon the substance for a 
shadow.” 

The curate dropped his elbows on his knees, and bending 
low, bit his nails in profound reflection. 

Again, to conceal none of my calculations from you : 
papa has offered Mr. Singleton a thousand pounds for the 
recovery of the will. If I accept Mr. Sherridan, the offer 
will be retracted and we shall save all that money.” 

Mr. Shepherd dropped his nails in alarm, and raising his 
body, slowly asked : 

“ If he has made this offer to Mr. Singleton, can he retract 
it?” 

“ Certainly ; for I know that the agreement was made on 
consideration of the will being found within a certain 
time.” 

“ What time, deah Miss Strong — what period was fixed ? ” 

“ That I cannot tell you.” 

“ And when do you expect to see Mr. Sherridan again ? ” 

“To-morrow.” 

The curate again took to his nails. Miss Strong rose. 

“ One moment, deah Miss Strong, one moment,” exclaimed 
Mr. Shepherd, springing to his feet. “ If I undertake to 
get this will, mind it is at the risk of my life, will you prom- 
ise not to give Mr. Sherridan a definite reply before next 
Sunday ? ” 

Miss Strong considered for a moment or two as she went 


KITTY^S FATHER. 


231 

slowly to the gate, then suddenly, as if moved by a generous 
impulse, she said : 

“ I think I may promise that. Yes, Mr. Shepherd, I will 
keep him at arm’s length until next Sunday — for your sake. 
But after that you must give up all thought of my sharing 
that dear little nest in the Essex marshes.” 


232 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 

I JOIN MY DEAR KITTY AGAIN, IN DUBLIN. 

I TOOK my letter to the railway station and put it in the 
box on the platform. A train had just come in, and I found 
some little difficulty in getting back to the trap ; but what 
was my surprise, when I reached the pavement, to perceive 
Jack standing on the curb, patting his mare’s neck and speak- 
ing to the grinning little Jimmy ! 

“ This is very thoughtful of you, Dick,” said he, grasping 
my hand ; “ it’s more than I expected of you.” 

“ Why, who on earth could have thought to find you here ! 
This is the luckiest chance, to be sure. I only came up here 
to post a letter, thinking it might go on sooner than if I 
dropped it in the post-office.” 

“ Where was your letter for ? ” 

“ Dublin,” said I. “ And where have you come from ? ” 

“ Dublin,” he replied, with a queer look in his face. Then 
we got into the trap, Jimmy taking the back seat, and my 
mind so greatly exercised with this double coincidence, and 
certain misgivings with regard to Kitty, which this expedition 
of Jack’s suggested, that I could say never a word. Jack was 
equally silent. However, when we were well started, and 
the noise of the wheels prevented little Jimmy from hearing 
our conversation, I edged a little nearer to him and said, 
“ tell me all about it. Jack.” 

“ I couldn’t stand it any longer,” he replied. “ I’ve been 
hungering for a glimpse of the dear little soul for weeks, and 
at last I reached that point of starvation at which a man must 
yield to his cravings at any hazard. And what reason was 
there, Dick, for holding out longer ? ” 

“ Well, there was that sort of promise you made.” 

“ Oh, that is unbroken. I did not speak to her — only just 
feasted my eyes and ears for a couple of hours or so.” 

“ If that was4ill, I see no harm in it — as far as she is con- 
cerned.” 

“If there had b«en, I think I could have controlled my 


KITTY 'S FA TIIER, 


233 


craving a little longer. I started about an hour after you, 
caught the mail to Holyhead, and arrived at Dublin in time 
to get dinner before going to the theatre.” He looked very 
grave, and after a pause added, “ I think you must go over 
there, Dick. She looked just her lovely, bright little self 
while she was acting ; but in the intervals when she had no 
business, there was an expression of anxiety and trouble in 
her face which ought not to be there.” 

“ She confessed, for the first time, to a feeling of unhap- 
piness, in her last letter,” said I. 

“ I feared that, by your saying nothing about that letter to 
me, old chap, and the look of your face,” he replied. 

He was too delicate to question me now about the con- 
tents of the letter ; but he waited for me to speak. 

“ She asked me to come to her,” said I, “ and I will go 
before long.” 

“ Your journey to Scarborough has not resulted in any 
immediate engagement ? ” 

“ None.” 

“ Then run over to-morrow. You know I shall be sorry to 
lose you, but it’s for her good, Dick, and you ought to go. 
There’s a young priest hanging about her skirts — walked 
home with her after the show.” 

“ Surely you have no reason to be jealous of a priest.” 

“ I’m not more reasonable than another man in that respect. 
But it isn’t altogether that which makes me distrustful and 
uneasy.” 

Do you think he may convert her to the Church of Rome.?” 
he laughed. 

“ Her creed is a matter of small importance ; and if an 
institution may be judged by its representatives, the Church 
of Rome cannot be much worse than that which the Rev. 
Crawley Shepherd represents. It’s the influence which this 
man may bring to bear upon Kitty’s peculiarly emotional 
disposition that I fear. In a lower grade of society a dis- 
position of that kind might be affected by the influence of a 
Salvationist. In both cases the danger arises from an un- 
healthy condition of mind. It is difficult to explain what I 
mean without casting a slur upon devotion, which is far from 
my intention ; but I think Kitty’s own behavior illustrates the 
fact. She broke off her engagement with me upon what 
seems to me a strained scruple at the time when her mind 
was overwrought by the excitement of producing the play. 


234 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


Change of scene and the healing effect of time restored her 
to a normal condition. You have shown me that her letters 
were cheerful and healthy in tone ; now there is a relapse, 
consequent upon a feeling of solitude, perhaps, to which she 
is unaccustomed, and I fear some act of self-sacrifice as the 
consequence. No doubt the fear leads me to exaggerate the 
danger, but, without that, the fact of her being down-hearted 
is a sufficient reason for your going without delay.” 

“ That is quite true. I will go over to-morrow,” I said. 
“ Heaven knows she can scarcely be better pleased to see 
me than I to see her — my dear Kitty.” Then after reflecting 
a little while on what Jack had said, I continued, “ I think I 
understand what is in your mind and what you might have 
made clearer if you had less modesty. If Kitty loves you 
very dearly, and finds it impossible to forget you, and, feeling 
very unhappy with the conviction that she can never be your 
wife, craves for something in the place of human affection, 
she may be tempted to accept the consolation offered by a 
religious life.” 

“ As many unhappy women have accepted it before.” 

“ Ha, ha! ” I exclaimed hopefully, “ we shall see if an old 
uncle’s influence isn’t stronger than a young priest’s.” Then, 
my thoughts running on priests, I told Jack that I had seen 
Mr. Crawley Shepherd and Miss Strong together, and of what 
that young lady had said to me, in his presence. 

“ She’s a clever woman,” said he, “ and if that fellow has 
the will, I believe she’ll get it out of him. To-morrow I’ll 
go over there and see how the game is going. Mind, Dick, 
I shall hold my promise null and void the moment it is proved 
that the will exists and that I am no longer a man of fortune. 
I shall claim Kitty’s hand at once, all other objections to the 
contrary notwithstanding.’^ 

As I knew nothing then of the facts brought out in the 
interview between Miss Strong and the curate — facts which 
afterwards changed my views completely — it seemed to me 
that the restitution of the will depended much less upon Mr. 
Shepherd’s weakness than on Yorke’s strength; however, 
I said nothing to Jack, of course, on this head, and was con- 
tented to think that if Yorke only stuck to his promise the 
desired end would be gained. 

The next afternoon I landed in Dublin, and very shortly 
after I dropped into the sitting-room where Mrs. St. Vincent 
and Kitty were taking tea together. My poor Kitty, who had 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


235 


only received my letter a few hours before, was so overcome 
with astonishment at seeing me, that for a moment or so she 
could only look at me with the bewilderment of one suddenly 
awoke ; but in that brief space I saw that secret suffering 
had preyed upon her pretty cheek ; she looked quite three 
or four years older. But as she recovered from the shock, 
the color mounted to her face, joy flashed in her eyes and at 
once she became the beautiful young creature of past times. 
See flung her arms about my neck, kissed me again and 
again, murmuring incoherent words of welcome and joy 
between, while a couple of tears of joy ran down her smiling 
face. Then, when we were calmed down a little, she would 
have me eat (though I had but little inclination that way, my 
digestive apparatus being still sore with the unpleasant effects 
of the sea voyage), but yet must press my arm to her side, 
and nestle her face against my shoulder, and ask me an 
infinity of questions, so that the opportunities of raising my 
fork to my lips or of opening them for other purposes than 
speaking were few indeed. 

“ It’s just like old times, the dear, delightful, good old 
times ! ” she said to me, as we trotted off, arm-in-arm, to the 
theatre. And that was true, only she played to me that night 
as I sat^in the stalls in a manner altogether exceptional. 

I went behind, to fetch her after the performance, and 
when we came out by the stage door, she introduced me to 
Mr. Justin O’Gorman, the young priest, who was waiting 
there for her. 

“I’m glad to make your acquaintance, sir,” I said, “and I 
hope we may be very good friends,” I added significantly, 
and then tucking Kitty’s hand under my arm I made him a 
bow, and left him to escort Mrs. St. Vincent. 

We had no serious talk, Kitty and I, that night, nor the 
next day, either ; for that was fully taken up in getting into 
our new lodgings (those which she had regarded so longingly), 
and domestic arrangements, for I had promised Kitty that 
I would leave her no more — at any rate while she remained 
in Ireland. I had made up my mind to be very careful 
what I said, and to commit myself in no way ; and Kitty, 
observing that I did not refer to the remarks she made in her 
letter with regard to her father, evidently thought k unadvis- 
able to broach such a serious subject until we were quite 
settled down, which was a great comfort to me, as it gave 
me time to arrange in my mind how I should treat the 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


236 

affair when I could no longer remain silent. But on Wednes 
day afternoon, as we were sitting in the Park, I told her cf 
all that happened during my visit to the Cedars, only sup- 
pressing those incidents which would have disclosed the 
fact that Mr. Decimus Shuttle was her father. She looked 
very grave when I explained the comedy which Miss Strong 
had played with Jack to excite the jealousy and cupidity of 
Mr. Shepherd, and asked so many particulars about the 
affair that it was still under discussion when we returned 
to our lodgings. 

“ Do you think it was really pretence, dear ? ” she asked, 
as she was setting the tea-things. 

“ I am sure of it. Why, Jack told me the whole plot the 
very first day.” 

“ Of course, they began by mere pretence, but. Jack, Mr. 
Sherridan is so nice, and Miss Strong appears to be so very 
charming,” with a vicious little underlining of the “ very,” 
“ that one might naturally expect it to develop into — into 
something serious,” 

“ Not a bit of it,” said I, stoutly. But she' was not con- 
vinced, I could see plainly enough. 

“After all,” said she, in a husky tone, and swallowing 
something that seemed to have risen in her throat, “ one 
ought to hope that it may lead to something more than mere 
make-belief if it is for Mr. Sherridan’s happiness.” 

“ My dear,” said I, feeling that I would settle Mr. Justin 
O’Gorman’s business at once, “ my dear. Jack will never be 
happy till he’s made you his wife.” 

“ Poor Jack,” she murmured, with a dismal shake of her 
head. 

“Well, if he isn’t poor Jack yet, he soon will be, I hope, 
and then you’ll have no excuse left for refusing him.” 

“ But my father ” she said, with a look of distraction, as 

the old conflict between inclination and principle was renewed 
by these words. 

“ If the will is restored by Shepherd it will prove that 
your father was not the thief who stole it, and as to the more 
terrible suspicions we attached to that theft, I have your 
father’s assurance that he is guiltless of that crime.” 

She looked at me with wild incredulity. 

“ You have not said a word of this in your letters.” 

“ I did not intend to tell you until the will had been found 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


237 


to prove the truth of his assertion, but as usual you have 
upset all my resolutions.” 

“ And you think Jack loves me still ? ” 

“ I’m as certain of it as I am that you are sitting there. 
Why his last words to me were — ‘ Mind, if the will is found 
I shall hold my promise as null and void, and no other 
objection shall stand in my way. The moment it is proved 
that I have lost my fortune, I shall claim Kitty’s hand ; ’ 
and that’s another thing I didn’t mean to tell you.” 

“ Hush ! ” she cried, springing to her feet ; then, after 
listening for an instant in strained suspense, she rushed to^ 
the door crying, “ ’Tis his step — Jack,' Jack — my love ! ” 


238 


KITTY'S FA THE K 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 

THE SHADOW THAT COMES WITH A GREAT LIGHT. 

Kitty herself opened the door to Jack, whose brisk step 
in passing before the window had caught her ear, before the 
woman of the house had time to answer his sharp knock. I 
did not stir from my seat ; for to my mind there is such 
sanctity in this delicate sentiment of love that it jars upon 
my feelings even to see the tender embraces of lovers repre- 
sented on the stage. It was sufhcient for me to hear the 
smothered murmur of their voices as they met in the little 
passage outside the sitting-room, the hysterical mingling of 
laughter and sobs in which Kitty’s emotion expressed itself, 
and the gentle remonstrance by which Jack soothed her 
agitated feelings. A great happiness filled my heart ; never- 
_ tireless, a misgiving crossed my mind, as I thought of Kitty’s 
father and certain difficulties that were yet to be cleared 
away before I could say, “ Now, it is all right. No matter 
what happens, Kitty’s happiness is assured.” 

They came towards the room. At the door they paused 
again and I heard Kitty say, 

“Oh, Jack, I am the most inconsistent girl in the whole 
world, for not a day has passed since we parted but I have 
wished you to come back to me.” 

I did not catch Jack’s response ; but it must have been 
very pleasing to Kitty, for, after a brief interval of silence, 
when they entered the room her face was radiant with hap- 
piness. 

“The will is found then. Jack?” said I, giving him my 
hand and grasping his affectionately. 

“ Yes,” said he, “that rascally curate took it up to Single- 
-ton yesterday morning, and he brought it in triumph to the 
Cedars last night, just as I was about to leave. Oh, there’s 
no doubt about it; I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Every 
farthing of my grandfather’s fortune is bequeathed to Strong ; 
and now,” he added, turning to Kitty, “ I am as poor a man -s 
myb_st friend could wish. The ‘ Blue-stcck’ng ’ has come 


KITTY'S FATHER. 239 

to the end of its inglorious run in London, and starvation 
stares me in the face.” 

He raised an empty plate as he spoke, and at this hint, 
Kitty and I bustled about to put the best we had before him. 
I left Kitty and Jack looking in the chiffonier cupboard for the 
pickles, but when I returned from the kitchen with the cold 
shoulder of mutton they were just as far as ever from finding 
them, though it turned out that the bottle was right before 
their eyes. Their heads were quite turned with happiness, 
that was clear, and if I had not kept an eye on the clock Kitty 
would certainly never have got to the theatre in time to answer 
her call. 

After leaving her at the stage door. Jack and I had a good 
half-hour for serious talk, and as soon as we had lit our pipes 
I begged him to tell me all that had happened in the last 
three days. 

“Well,” said he, “on Monday I went to the Cedars, you 
know, and after lunch I found an opportunity of having a 
good long talk with Miss Strong — or rather of listening to 
what she had to say — and what she had to say was of such an 
extraordinary character that I hardly know now what comment 
to make upon it.” Then he narrated what passed between 
Miss Strong and Mr. Shepherd in the interview which I have 
more fully described from her own account in a preceding 
chapter. This threw me into a state of complete perplexity, 
seeing which Jack, with a smile, said : 

“ You don’t know what to make of it, eh, Dick } The fel- 
low is such a liar, that it’s difficult for anyone to determine 
when he is telling the truth. Singleton, however, corrob- 
orates all that concerns their interview in Chancery Lane on 
Saturday. And between you and me, old chap, I’m inclined 
to believe that we’ve done that wretched curate an injustice, 
and given him credit for greater villainy than he is guilty of. 
A sneaking hound, a treacherous, mean-spirited, time-serving 
sycophant, and a cunning idiot he may be ; but I think the 
weight of evidence upsets the supposition that he was con- 
cerned in the murder and robbery of my grandfather.” 

“ Then who do you think is the real criminal. Jack ? ” I 
faltered. 

“ Shuttle beyond a doubt, and his mysterious accomplice 
Roberts.” 

“ But how did the curate obtain the will, if Shuttle returned 
on Saturday ? ” 


240 


KITTY'S FA TIIER. 


“ He tells Singleton that he picked the locks on Sunday 
night and found the will at the bottom of a trunk filled with 
old clothes. And here again his statement is supported by 
Singleton’s evidence. Of course, a constant watch is kept on 
the house and grounds by the detective, and shortly after eleven 
on Sunday night Shuttle was seen to leave the vicarage by the 
side-door in Love Lane, and join Roberts at the foot of the 
hill. He did not return until nearly five the next morning ; 
that gave Shepherd six hours to carry out his operations, 
which he did according to the account he gave Singleton, by 
the light of a piece of phosphorus in a bottle, after securing 
himself from surprise by bolting the front door by which 
Shuttle left the house.” 

“ Where is the curate now ? ” 

“In London — hiding. He bolted from the vicarage on 
Monday night, and he dare not return to Chester for the fear 
of encountering Shuttle or the yet more dreaded, because un- 
known, Roberts. That is his statement of the case, and 
it looks natural enough, doesn’t it? ” 

“ And what does the detective, Singleton, say — what is 
his opinion ? ” 

“ Of course he doesn’t show his hand, and plays his cards 
carefully. The game is a ticklish one ; but it’s easy to see 
that he regards the curate now as a negligable quantity.” 

“ And the admiral ? ” 

Jack laughed. 

“ On the moment he heard that the curate had restored 
the will he was for getting a warrant to apprehend him for 
the theft. ‘ If you do that,’ said Singleton, at once, ‘ I drop 
the affair altogether and satisfy myself with the reward I 
have won. You will get no conviction; the curate will be 
discharged for want of evidence, and Shuttle and Roberts will 
be on the safe side of the channel in less than twelve hours.’ 
That brought the admiral to reason.” 

“ But,” said I, with an inward chuckle of content, “ Single- 
ton must drop the affair. It is not likely that he will put 
himself out of the way to continue this pursuit, now that 
you are no longer in a position to pay that reward you 
offered.” 

“ God bless your simplicity, Dick ! Do you think such a 
man-of-war as old Strong will let the enemy escape because 
his crippled consort cannot continue the pursuit ? Not he ! 
He has doubled the offer, promising Singleton a couple of 


riTTY’S FATl/EK. 


241 


thousand the day he convicts the real criminal, sticking to it 
manfully that Shepherd will be found guilty.” 

I could only pray that Yorke might discover the loss of the 
will, and, connecting it with the curate’s desertion, see the 
danger of his position and escape before Singleton found 
further evidence against him. 

“ Do you know what steps Singleton is going to take next ? ” 
I asked. 

I’ve not the slightest idea. Evidently he expects to get 
stronger evidence against Shuttle and Roberts than Shep- 
herd’s statement that he got the will from one of Shuttle’s 
clothes boxes. His manner leads one to suspect that he has 
some other clue. However, we shall see, and very soon, 
too. Singleton can’t afford to let the grass grow under his 
feet, now that Shuttle at any moment may find the will 
gone.” 

“ The sooner the better,” I said to myself, as we turned 
into the theatre, feeling that I could have no real peace of 
mind while this state of suspense continued. The latent 
care in my mind marred the delight I felt in the happiness 
of the young people who were so dear to me ; for whenever 
I saw their smiling interchange of love and contentment the 
question occurred to me, “ Is this for the best 1 Can it 
last ? ” 

There was the usual knot of people about the stage door 
when we went round after the performance, and as I stopped 
to say good-evening to my old friend, Mrs. St. Vincent, Jack 
left me and passed in to find Kitty. I knew they would give 
us the slip by going out through the front, so I made no at- 
tempt to follow him. While I was still chatting with Mrs. 
St. Vincent, we were joined by Mr. Justin O’Gorman, and it 
so happened that when the little group dispersed I found 
myself alone with this young man. He was tall and strik- 
ingly handsome, with dark, deep-sunk, thoughtful eyes, an 
aquiline nose, a delicate mouth, and a pronounced chin. 
Despite the tenderness of his lips and the dreamy softness 
of his eyes, there was a distinctly ascetic expression on his 
face which was heightened by his pallor and the hollowness 
of his cheek. 

Kitty had told me nothing about him, except that he 
lodged in the same house with them, and had been in the 
habit of coming to the theatre at night to escort them home : 
and being curious to know whether Jack’s suspicions were 

16 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


242 

based simply on jealous fear or on solid fact, I was glad to 
have this opportunity of sounding him. 

“Is Miss Yorke gone?’’ he asked in surprise, breaking 
away from the subject we were discussing, as I turned the 
corner of the street. 

“ Yes,” said I. “ I expect she left by the front of the 
house. At any rate I am not wanted, now she has Mr. Sher- 
ridan to take care of her.” 

“ Mr. Sherridan ? ” he repeated, in a tone of interrogation. 

“ The gentleman she is to marry,” I explained. 

He stopped involuntarily for an instant ; then, after a 
couple of paces, he said in a low tone : 

“ I did not know Miss Yorke was engaged — indeed ” 

he checked himself abruptly. 

“ She led you to believe that she should never marry,” I 
hinted. “ Well, until this afternoon she had reason to believe 
that she should never marry Mr. Sherridan. I suppose girls 
all feel that they can never love but one — until they love 
another.” 

“ Miss Yorke is not an ordinary girl in any sense,” he re- 
plied quietly. “ There is a fidelity of purpose in her charac- 
ter which, under certain conditions, would lead to heroic self- 
sacrifice. I saw that Miss Yorke had loved and lost, but I 
saw not less clearly that she would never love again.” 

“ Then, thank Heaven for giving back her lost love,” said I, 
with fervor. “ For what would life be without love ? ” and 
remembering his order, I added, “ to a woman ? ” 

“ Or to man either.” 

I was surprised to hear him, a Catholic priest, say this ; 
but my thought at that moment turning to the Mill-House and 
Mrs. Bailey with a pathetic tenderness, I assented. 

“ That is true ; love is necessary to us all. What could we 
put in its place ? ” 

“ Nothing,” said he gravely, “ nothing except what we call 
self-sacrifice, and that is nothing but love in a higher form 
— altruism.” 

“ Altruism ! would you be good enough to give me the mean- 
ing of the word, sir ? ” 

“ Renunciation of self — the giving up of all we possess for 
the benefit of others — the devotion of our lives, not to one or 
two, but to all the world.” 

“Then, thank Heaven,” said I to myself, “for saving me 
from altruism also.” 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


243 


Perceiving by my manner that his views were distasteful 
to me, he had the good taste to drop altruism and turn the 
conversation, with the graceful facility of an accomplished 
talker, to music ; and in this he astonished me, not less by 
his profound knowledge of the subject, than by the light and 
agreeable way in which he treated it. He was no longer the 
austere teacher of self-denial, but a most charming companion. 
We parted, the best friends in the world ; but I should not 
have been sorry to know that we were quit of each other for 
good and all, seeing that Jack had not overrated the influ- 
ence such a man might have over a young woman of emo- 
tional temperament like Kitty. 

I said nothing about him to Jack and Kitty when we met 
at supper, but suffered them to enjoy their notion, that I had 
been paying attentions to Mrs. St. Vincent ; but the figure of 
the handsome young priest haunted my memory and stood 
out in my imagination like a warning spectre. 

When Jack at last left us, Kitty, returning to me, her eyes 
swimming with happiness, threw her arms about my neck, 
and laying her face against my shoulder, exclaimed ; 

“ Oh, what should I do if I lost him again ! ” 

“ My dear,” I expostulated, “ why should such a thought 
come into your head at this time ? ” 

“ I don’t know,” she replied softly, rocking herself slowly 
in my arms, “unless it is that shadows will come with a great 
light.” 

“ It is half-past two,” I observed to avoid further discus- 
sion. 

“ Poor uncle, and you have been yawning so terribly for 
the last hour.” She kissed me with a laugh at my expense, 
and then again with tender affection, and we separated for 
the night. 

But, tired as I was, I could not sleep for the misgivings 
that plagued me. Kitty, Jack, Yorke, the priest, all the 
dramatis personce. came before me, and everyone of them sug- 
gested some terrifying or gloomy possibility. 

The remarkable accuracy with which Jack had conceived 
the character and motive of Mr. Justin O’Gorman, caused me 
the greatest uneasiness. “ For if,” said I to myself, “ his con- 
clusions are so just, with regard to this man, they rhay be 
equally accurate with regard to Yorke, whose character he 
has had fuller opportunity of judging. He exonerates the 
curate from any participation in the crime, throwing the guilt 


244 


KITTY^S FA THER. 


upon Yorke and Roberts. But the evidence of Singleton is 
against Yorke, and not against Roberts, who seems only to 
be a tool in Yorke’s hands. What reason is there to doubt 
the justice of this evidence } None, but Yorke’s assertion 
that he was not the most guilty of the parties concerned. 
But what reliance is to be placed on that assertion ? Would 
the man capable of committing theft and murder hesitate to 
tell a lie when it suited his purpose ? ” 

Before I fell asleep, I had come to the dismal conviction 
that once more I had been led to a false conclusion, by trust- 
ing my own judgment. 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


245 


CHAPTER XXXVIll. 

JACK LEARNS ALL WE HAVE TO TELL. 

Happily, the sight of Kitty’s bright face at the breakfast- 
table, and her cheerful gossip dispelled my lugubrious fore- 
bodings in a great measure ; otherwise, I should have come 
very badly out of the ordeal that awaited me. 

When the breakfast things were removed, Kitty brought 
me my pipe and tobacco-pouch, and seating herself by my 
side, said : 

“Jack is coming for me at twelve. We are going out to- 
gether. There was' no time to talk to him last night upon 
serious matters. But I do not want to put it off a moment 
longer than I can help.” 

“ Of course, my dear, I shall not prevent you ; but what is 
it you want to tell him .? ” 

“ I intend to tell him the truth, to confess my real motive 
for declining to be his wife.” 

“ But that necessitates confessing that we believed your 
father to be implicated in the crime at the vicarage.” 

“ Why should we not confess it, now that his innocence is 
proved .? ” she asked. 

“ True — but ” I demurred, bending over my pip^ with a 

shake of the head, unable to proceed. 

“ It is a duty we owe my father,” she continued earnestly. 
“ We did him a great wrong to condemn him upon mere- 
suspicion, before we knew even whether he denied his guilt 
or not.” 

“ M — yes ; but how are you going to explain the sandal- 
wood box affair t ” 

“ That needs no explanation, dear, now that we know that 
the contents of the box were in the hands of someone else. 
Naturally Jack has said to me very little upon this subject^ 
not knowing how deeply it affects me ; but incidentally he 
told me that the will had been given up by that horrid curate. 
Always hoping that my father was guiltless, I had accounted 
to myself for the box coming into his possession, innocently, 


KITTY’S FA THER. 


246 

before I heard that. I saw him on the race-course that 
morning with his companion. His appearance, his wish that 
I should not know him, proved that he was living amongst 
the rough people who gain their living at those meetings. Is it 
not reasonable to suppose that the thief, having taken all 
that the box contained, purposely threw this box where it 
might be picked up by someone like my father, as a means 
of diverting the suspicion from himself, and fixing it where 
the police would first of all direct inquiry ? ” 

“ That sounds plausible enough, to be sure.” 

“ Again it has struck me from the first, that if my father 
committed the crime it was a piece of folly little short of 
madness to give me the box, knowing that I was engaged to 
Jack, who might identify it.” 

“ That never occurred to me — if I had only thought of 
that ” said I. 

“ I wanted to tell you, dear,” said Kitty, laying her hand 
on my arm, “ I wanted to talk about this — to seek for 
some explanation that would remove this terrible dread. But 
you closed my lips — you would not speak nor let me speak ; 
and that more than anything else made me believe my father 
guilty — you forced me to believe that you knew more than 
you dared to tell me. But that is past, now, isn’t it ? You 
will tell me all that you have concealed about him. When 
did you see him last } ” 

“ On Saturday. It was then that he told me that he was 
innocent of that awful crime.” 

“ Yet you told me nothing about it in your letter on Sun- 
day. But you knew it was all in all to me — that my father’s 
innocence is as dear to me as life itself. You knew that my 
heart was breaking under this great trouble, and still you 
would not speak.” Tears filled her sweet eyes, her voice 
trembled with emotion ; and I knew not what to say or do. 
“And you let a day pass,” she continued with a sob, 
“talking of everything but that which would have been most 
welcome to a daughter’s ear, and when at last the truth es- 
caped you it was not willingly.” 

“ Have patience with me, Kitty dear,” said I. “ You know 
well enough that I am not wantonly cruel ; and I am not 
altogether to blame for this. I have been guided by your 
father, and I think I must still submit to his guidance. Come, 
my dear Kitty, you shall tell me what I ought to do. On 
one hand you ask me to tell you all I know about your father, 


KITTY'S FATHER, 


247 

on the other he forbids me to tell anything. Which am I to 
obey ” 

She sat silent and absorbed in deep thought for two or 
three minutes : then she said with perfect calm, and slow, 
emphatic utterance : 

“One thing you must tell me : To your own knowledge 
has my father ever done that which should dishonor me ? ” 

“ Well, my dear,” said I, shuffling from the point, “ he has 
been mixed up with a queer lot.” 

“ That does not dishonor me,” Kitty replied sharply. “ To 
speak plainly, uncle, is it known to you that my father has 
committed a crime .? ” 

This was an easier question to answer, for I had no proof 
of Yorke’s guilt, and so I replied without hesitation, “ No.” 

“ Then I will ask no more. I am content to know that he 
is innocent, to believe that he has some better motive than I 
can imagine for secrecy, and this strange aversion.” 

“ He is not without deep alfection for you, Kitty dear,” said 
I. “ He was deeply moved when I show^ed him your letter. 
Above all things he wishes you to marry, and it may be he 
thinks it advisable that Jack shall not know of his existence 
while there is any doubt of the affair coming off.” 

“ But Jack shall know everything that I can tell him,” said 
she firmly. “ In this I shall take guidance from no one. My 
father may keep a secret from me, but I will keep none from 
my husband.” 

Here was another vexatious combination. “ Now,” thought 
I, “ Jack will be down on me. He’ll want to know all that 
Kitty can’t tell him, and how I’m to stand up against him 
when I can barely hold my ground against Kitty, Heaven 
only knows ! And then all this comes from my confounded 
knack of opening my mouth too wide. If I had kept it res- 
olutely shut from the beginning, as Yorke bade me, and re- 
fused to tell Kitty one word about her father, all this past 
trouble, and, I fear, a good deal more to come, would not 
have happened. And what good is there to counterbalance 
all this evil ? not a scrap, that I can see. Yorke’s jeopardy 
is rather increased than lessened. Jack and Kitty, who 
might have been married and settled down comfortably long 
ago, have been sundered and made wretched, and their mar- 
riage is still uncertain ; and as for me I’ve been in a con- 
stant pickle from first to last. Yorke, if he could, would send 
me to Jericho, Kitty is vexed with me and so sore at heart 


248 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


that she can’t give me a kind look, and I may safely expect 
to be badgered by Mr. Jack like a thief in the witness-box.” 

Doubtless the expression of my countenance was particu- 
larly deplorable at that moment, for Kitty, turning from the 
window where she had been standing for some moments ab- 
sorbed in thought, came quickly to me with an exclamation 
of pain and regret, and seating herself on my knee twined her 
arms round my neck and begged me to forget anything she 
had said to grieve me. “ It is so hard to consider the feel- 
ings of others at the moment that one’s own are hurt,” said 
she, and then, to give a livelier turn to the affair, she added 
in the rich brogue she had picked up, and taking my hand in 
hers, “ Sure, darlint, ye know that your Kitty loves you better 
than all the world, but one ; and worships this hand that 
never touched her but in kindness.” 

I vowed that I would never give another thought to the in- 
cident, and, declaring it was folly to let past clouds throw a 
gloom upon our spirits now that the sun had burst forth, I 
rose, and lit my pipe in a cheerful spirit. “ But,” said I to 
myself, “ if ever a generous impulse leads me to let the cat 
out of the bag again, may I be shot.” 

Jack came, with a smart car for Kitty, and I did not see 
them again until tea-time. They were both in buoyant 
spirits ; Kitty was quite herself again ; there was not a sign 
of lurking anxiety in her face. The drive had done her a 
world of good ; but more still was due to the feeling of hope 
and confidence which Jack had revived by his happy faculty 
of looking things straight in the face and discovering their 
brighter side. His manner with me was as kind and genial 
as usual, and he made no allusion whatever to my past lack 
of candor ; nevertheless, I knew that it was a matter which 
could not be passed over in silence, and, wishing to get 
through the unpleasant business as soon as possible, I 
opened the conversation that evening the minute after we 
had left Kitty at the stage door. 

“Well, Jack,” said I, “you’re going to give me a piece of 
your mind, I expect.” 

“ What about, Dick ? ” 

“ Kitty has told you the reason why she broke off the en- 
gagement } ” 

He nodded. 

“ And I daresay you think me wanting in feeling to liave 
left that painful duty to her.” 


KITTY'S FA THEN. 


249 

“ On the contrar}’, I should have thought you wanting in 
feeling and sense, too, if you had breathed a word on a sub- 
ject which she had such excellent reasons for concealing. 
She has told me all she knows about her father,” he added, 
by way of explanation. 

“ I may as well say at once,” said I, “ that I can add noth- 
ing to your knowledge on that head.” 

“ That is understood, Dick. I should be very sorry to hear 
from your lips a single word, that you considered it advisable 
to conceal from Kitty. You feel, perhaps, that between 
friends,” he slipped his hand through my arm, and gave it a 
kindly nudge, “ between men so well disposed towards each 
other as you and I are, there should be no reserve ; but I 
couldn’t have liked you, Dick, if you had betrayed Kitty’s 
secret. It seems to me that throughout this business — a 
most trying and difficult one for a man of your character — 
you have acted both well and wisely.” 

I was not less pleased with this handsome compliment than, 
with the very unexpected escape from an awkward position. 
It was wonderful the effect this had on my spirits. 

“ Wait a bit. Jack,” said I. “ I feel as if we ought to have 
a good cigar,” and, leaving him, I turned into the tobacco- 
nist’s we were passing, and -bought two Intimidads, for 
which the man made me pay two shillings ; if he had asked 
me ten I would have paid it. 

“As for Kitty,” said Jack, when he had lit his cigar, “ it 
makes me chokey to think of her devotion and loyalty; 
There’s not such another girl in the world. Why, God bless 
me, Dick, a woman with a soul and conscience like hers 
could afford to have old Nick himself for a father.” 

“ It doesn’t seem just, in any case, that the sins of the 
father should be visited on the children,” I remarked. 

“ No, but they are. Women, especially, suffer. They’re 
so ready to take our burdens on their shoulders. One thing 
bothers me a bit, Dick,” he continued, after a pause ; “ I fear 
that Kitty, even now, is not quite convinced of her father’s 
innocence.” 

The same doubt had crossed my mind. It seemed to me 
that if the restitution of the will had swept away every doubt 
as to her father’s honesty, she would have confessed all to 
Jack at the first moment of their meeting; that latent dread 
had silenced her on this subject before she had learnt more 
from me, and that, in asserting her belief in his guiltlessness. 


250 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


her tone would have been exultant, rather than tearful, had 
no suspicion lingered. 

“ I fear,” Jack continued, “that her heart, rather than her 
reason, exonerates him ; that she believes him guiltless be- 
cause it is a duty to honor her father.” After a little interval 
of silence, he asked : “ Have you the notes that were given 
with the sandal-wood box t ” 

“ No.” 

“ That’s a pity,” he explained, as though he were not quite 
certain of my veracity. “ For if the numbers of the stolen 
notes were taken we could prove that these were not in the 
lot. That might convince Kitty.” 

“I gave them to Yorke while I was still in doubt as to 
their origin ; before Shepherd gave up the will.” 

I could not tell by his manner whether he believed me or 
not. When he next spoke it was on another subject. 

“ When does the engagement here finish, do you know, 
Dick ? ” he asked. 

“ At the end of the month for certain.” 

“ And this is the second. A full three weeks. I suppose, 
after I have resided here a fortnight, we could be married ? ” 

“ I believe so.” 

“ Then Kitty shall be my wife before we leave Dublin,” 
said he, in a tone of decision. 

But that was not to be, for, as everyone knows, the Phoenix 
Theatre was burnt down on the night of September 2 d. 


KITTY'S FATHER, 


251 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 

KITTY SEES HER NEW HOME AND MRS. BAILEY. 

The fire broke out about three o’clock in the morning. I 
was awakened by the cry of “ Fire ” in the street below, and, 
opening my eyes, found the room quite light and a red glare 
on the window-blind. Kitty cried to me the next moment in 
alarm from her room. We both thought the house we were 
in was in flames ; but, on going to the window, I saw that we 
were quite safe, though the huge tongues of fire seemed to 
spring up directly behind the row of houses on the other side 
of the street. By the time I had shuffled on a few clothes 
Kitty came to the door in her dressing-gown. We were both 
terribly scared and excited by the shock. The noise in the 
street increased, there was a continued patter of feet, every- 
one crying “ Fire,” as if from exuberant delight in destruc- 
tion. Throwing up the window we saw a myriad of sparks 
whirling in the sky overhead, and here and there great flakes 
fell softly like snow into the street. Hearing our exclama- 
tions of alarm. Jack, who had run round from his hotel, called 
out to me ; he would have called in vain if it had not been 
for Kitty. I should not have heard him above the clatter in 
the street, the roar of the flames, and the commotion in my 
own mind. 

“ Is there any danger,” I asked, “ ought we to pack 
up ? ” 

“ Not yet,” said he with a laugh, “ though I expect we shall 
all have to pack to-morrow. There’s not the slightest danger, 
Kitty. It’s worth while coming to the end of the street, you 
get a magnificent view of it there.” 

“ Why, where is it ? ” asked Kitty, n 

“ Don’t you know ? It’s the theatre you- were playing in 
last niglR.” 

This iJfought Kitty’s engagement to a sudden end, and as 
there was now no reason for staying in Dublin, Jack proposed 
that Kitty should take possession of her future home at once. 
“ It’s a little irregular, perhaps,” said he, “ but if the arrange- 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


ment is convenient and agreeable to all of us, I see no objec- 
tion to it on that account.” 

Kitty was delighted with the idea. She was longing to see 
the Mill-House of which I had written so glowingly, and beiin 
quite as Bohemian in her tastes as Jack, regarded the irreg- 
ularity rather as an inducement than otherwise, as it gave a 
certain dash of piquancy to the proceeding. Besides that, 
Jack had already propounded his notion for a new comedy in 
which Kitty’s help was as indispensable as it had been in the 
production of “ The Blue-stocking; ” and as they had settled 
that this work could only be begun in their new home it was 
of vital importance that they should settle down in that home 
quickly ; for Jack had now no other means of subsistence 
than a beggarly tw'o guineas a day from the American com- 
pany who were playing “ The Blue-stocking” in New York. 
These facts were brought forward to overcome any opposi- 
tion on my part to the proposal ; but indeed I was scarcely 
less eager than they for a foretaste of the home-life and hap- 
piness which Kitty was to enjoy. And so on Saturday we left 
Dublin by the morning mail ; and arriving at Chester in the 
afternoon we found the trap at the station with little Jimmy, 
on the broad grin, at the mare’s head — Jack having tele- 
graphed to Mrs. Bailey before starting. 

And now it made my heart beat high with joy to see 
Kitty’s delight when Jack told her that this was to be her 
mare as soon as she could ride and drive it. She loved all 
animals dearly, but it seemed to her that she had never seen 
any creature so intelligent and beautiful as this mare. She 
talked nonsense to it in a coaxing tone, as she stroked its 
silky nose and patted its glossy neck. 

Jack offered me the box seat ; but as past experience did 
not encourage me to take the reins again, I preferred to take 
the back seat with little Jimmy. 

“ Is your mamma quite well, Jimmy ? ” I asked, as soon as 
we were off. 

“ Yes, sir ; and she told me to give her best respects to you ; 
and I hope you’re quite well, sir.” 

A nicer, more well-behaved little lad I never saw in my 
life. He had the same fresh and healthy complexion as his 
mother, and his manners reflected her amiable disposition. 
I felt that I should have been glad to have had such a prom- 
ising boy for my own son, and was glad that I had recollected 
to buy him a pocket-knife with four blades and a corkscrew 


KITTY'S FA THER, 


253 

for a present, as well as a set of bog-wood ornaments for Mrs. 
Bailey. 

We had left the main road, and Kitty was taking her first 
lesson in driving under Jack’s instructions — her eyes flashing 
with excitement, her face flushed with pleasure. 

“ It is all right now,” said I to myself — “ in a very little 
while they will be married, and then all my cares will be over.” 
The reflection that when they were married I should not be 
wanted at the Mill-House failed to depress me, for I was 
cheered by the hopeful presentiment that somehow or other, 
though separated, I should never be far removed from her. 

I observed that Jack, instead of taking the road that led 
through St. Botolph’s, had turned down a by-lane, and this 
' relieved me of some anxiety I had felt with regard to the pos- 
sibility of meeting Yorke ; for remote as the probability was 
of encountering him on the road, dr of Kitty recognizing her 
father under his altered appearance, the possibility existed. 

The fear of an accidental meeting suggested to my mind 
the advisability of communicating with Yorke as quickly as 
possible ; for headstrong and stubborn as he was in going his 
own way, I felt sure that he would get out of the neighbor- 
hood for a certain time at any rate when he knew how mat- 
ters stood, and how necessary it was to Kitty’s welfare that 
she should not discover his identity at this juncture. 

These reflections were put an end to by a cry of delight 
from Kitty. We had reached the crest of the hill whence the 
' eye ranges over a vast expanse of beautiful country now bathed 
in the mellow light of the smiling sun, with the river like a 
; silver thread meandering through meadows and cornfields, 
and dark patches of woodland ; and there in the prettiest spot 
; on the scene stood the Mill-House, her future home, with its 
: many gables, and a line of pale blue smoke rising from its 
' chimneys against the dark background of Mousley wood. I 
i remembered how the first glimpse of Jack’s house had glad- 
dened my eyes ; and I was not surprised that it blinded Kitty 
with a tear of joy to think that she was to live there with the 
man she loved. 

She gave up the reins to Jack, asking him to take her 
home quickly, and the way in which he descended the hill and 
rattled over the rest of the road, kept me from thinking of any- 
thing else but what it would be best to do in case of accident, 
until we pulled up in safety before the porch, and Mrs. 
Bailey. The good woman was beaming with smiles and the 


254 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


very picture of neatness, with not a spot on her snowy apron, 
albeit a most delicious savory whiff told that she had some- 
thing cooking in the kitchen for our dinner. 

“ We’ve taken you by surprise, Mrs. Bailey,” said Jack after 
introducing Kitty. 

“ Not a bit of it, sir,” she replied, with a merry laugh. 
“ I’ve been expecting Miss Yorke ever since you set up her 
portrait on the mantelshelf ; and when I got your telegram 
this morning I says to myself, ‘ Well, if these two visitors 
aren’t Mr. Holderness and his niece, then Mr. Sherridan is 
not the sort of gentleman I take him for,’ and to prove it 
miss,” she added, turning to Kitty, “ I’ve prepared the room 
next to your uncle’s for you.” 

“ I shall come to you when I want my fortune told,” said 
Kitty smiling. 

“ No need of a conjurer to tell you that, miss,” said she 
with an arch smile ; and then as Kitty left us to join Jack who 
had strolled off to his favorite rosebush, Mrs. Bailey, drop- 
ping her voice to a confidential tone said to me, “ Lord, Mr. 
Holderness, what a lovely young lady ! and I see she gets her 
good looks from the mother’s side, for she takes after you 
wonderfully. But there! — I’m forgetting my roast,” and off 
she bustled. I. gave little Jimmy a shilling on the spot, and 
told him I had something else for him when the luggage came 
down from the station. 

Jack had led Kitty into the garden, and as I knew I was 
not wanted there I went indoors, and after peeping into the 
dining-room where the table with its snowy cloth and glitter- 
ing glasses, and the sideboard with its bunch of fresh-cut 
flowers and plates of fine ripe fruit presented a picture to 
charm the eye of any artist, I was led by that delightful odor 
of cooking down the passage and into the kitchen where Mrs. 
Bailey was basting something on a spit before the open wood 
fire. 

“ I’ve come to see what you’re going to give us for dinner,” 
said I. 

“ Now, that’s just what I like, Mr. Holderness. For if a 
gentleman takes no interest in the kitchen, what pleasure can 
a woman find in getting a nice bit of dinner for him. Par- 
tridges, and fine fat ones they are. I’ve cooked a couple of 
brace ; for after a long journey like that, it’s a strange thing to 
me if you can’t eat a bird apiece.” 

The look of the birds, the smell of them, the prospect of 


KITTY'S FA TURK. 


2£5 


sitting down soon to a whole bird, the sense of generous 
abundance, all of it together, in fact, exhilarated me to such 
a degree that I could not refrain from pinching Mrs. Bailey’s 
plump arm, and indeed I might have gone further if I had not 
at that moment heard Kitty’s voice as she entered the house. 

They were standing in the long room, she and Jack, hand 
in hand, silent with happiness. 

“There’s a table, Kitty,” said I, rubbing my hands in glee. 
“ You could seat twenty at it.” 

“ Mrs. Bailey seems to have prepared for as many,” said 
Kitty, glancing at the laden sideboard. 

“ She’s a good, comfortable soul,” said Jack, “ with hos- 
pitable views as large as her heart.” 

“ And look at the legs,” said I, raising the table-cloth, and 
thinking still of the table : “ what proportions, what grace com- 
bined with strength ! All solid oak.” I could not see what 
there was to laugh at in this observation, but seemingly Jack 
found it difficult to keep his countenance. However, I was 
too enthusiastic to regard interruption, and continued, 
“There’s a fireplace, too, see the seats in the chimney corner, 
and the irons to rest the logs on. Fancy the ruddy comfort- 
able glow on the polished beams and oak panels when the 
fire is lit.” 

“ And that pretty creeper peeping in at the window,” said 
Kitty, her eyes straying round the room. 

“ Yes, but picture it about Christmas time,” said I with en- 
thusiasm, “ when the windows are all tightly closed, and there’s 
a rim of white snow on the casements, and you come in hungry 
from a drive through the hard lanes, and there’s a delicious 
smell like this about — but come, my dear, let me show you 
your room ; for the dinner will be dished in a minute and it 
would be a shame to keep it waiting.” 

I took her up and showed her her room next to mine, which 
Mrs. Bailey had smartened up, the very ideal of sweetness 
and cleanliness and comfort, and bade her be quick ; but she 
was still standing by the window, looking down at the rush- 
ing mill-stream when I returned from brushing my hair. 

“ It is like a dream,” she said, “ and I fear every minute 
to wake and find it all vanished.” 

Recalling these words the next morning as I was dressing, 
I said to myself that nothing could be more terrible than the 
realization of her fear. And yet it was as likely as not to 
happen. For what if Yorke, reading that the theatre had 


KITTY'S FA TURK 


256 

been burnt down should come over on some pretence with a 
view to learning from me whether Kitty was safe ? Would 
Kitty fail to recognize in Mr. Shuttle the man she had seen 
on the race-course t Would not natural instinct aid her to 
penetrate his disguise and discover her father ? 

To prevent such a calamity I started olf on foot for St. 
Botolph’s as soon as Jack and Kitty were out of sight — they 
having gone in the trap, toward Moulsey. Behind Jack’s 
sharp trotting mare, the distance had seemed nothing at all ; 
on foot it was a very different thing. I thought I should 
never reach the vicarage ; and a hotter, dustier, more unin- 
teresting road I thought I had never travelled. It was just 
upon twelve as I passed the church, dusty and dead-beat. The 
anthem was being sung : everyone was in church, that is, all 
respectable people : I could not have chosen a better time for 
calling on Yorke. That was some consolation. 

As I turned the corner and came in sight of the vicarage, 

I perceived a couple of disreputable looking vagabonds peer- 
ing through the front gate. One of them turned, and catch- 
ing sight of me, nudged his companion, and the two, quitting 
the gate, slouched towards me, their hands in their pockets. 
They passed me, one with a twig in his mouth keeping his 
eyes before him, giving me a sharp furtive glance. I stopped 
and looked back before going to the vicarage gate ; they were 
rounding the corner of Love Lane, and both, in turning, shot 
another glance at me. I knew at once that they were a couple 
of Singleton’s detectives set to watch the vicarage and observe 
all who came in and went out. 

I rang the bell. After waiting a few minutes, I saw a man 
coming towards the gate, who assuredly was neither Yorke 
nor the curate. He was a little, shrivelled, bent old fellow 
in a sleeved waistcoat and a blue gardener’s apron. “ This, 
then,” said I to myself, “ is the mysterious Roberts, playing 
the part of a domestic servant.” But it seemed to me im- 
possible that a man so old and decrepit could have done the 
murder ; yet there was sinewy strength in his hands, tanned 
and hairy on the back, and the crooked bony fingers looked 
capable of strangling a man ; and when he raised his bent 
head and faced me I found cruelty enough in the wrinkled 
and puckered-up mouth, and sufficient cunning in the beady 
eyes under their bristling and overhanging brows to justify 
the conclusion that he had killed the old vicar.” 

“ Is Mr. Shuttle at home ? ” I asked. 


ja TTY'S FATHER. 


257 


After regarding me in suspicion for a moment, he asked 
me what I wanted, and put his hand to his ear, pretending 
deafness as an excuse for not replying directly to my ques- 
tion. 

“ Mr. Shuttle, is he at home ? ” I repeated, raising my 
voice. 

“ What’s yer name ? ” he asked. “ Speak up, I’m hard of 
hearing.” 

“ Holderness,” I answered in a still higher tone. 

‘‘ All right,” said he, his wrinkled face twisting into a grin 
as he pulled a key from his pocket and opened the gate. 

I pushed through, and left him carefully locking it. Com- 
ing to the lawn, I stopped for an instant in astonishment, for 
there, walking slowly towards the hoilse with his hands behind 
him was the curate, in his long frock-coat, and his flat-crowned 
felt hat drawn down to the tips of his ears. I had been led 
to understand that he was hiding in London ; his return to 
the vicarage showed either that his story of robbing Shuttle 
was a falsehood, or that he possessed an amount of courage 
with which we had not credited him. But these speculations 
were abruptly upset by the man turning on his heel and dis- 
covering the fact that he was not Mr. Shepherd but Bob 
Yorke. 


17 


255 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


CHAPTER XL. 

kitty’s father plays another part. 

It was certainly a clever make-up, the curate’s gait, the 
bend in his shoulders, the manner of laying one hand in the 
other behind his back, and of holding them before him, at 
other times, like a pair of limp fins, the set of his head and 
all the details of his dress were wonderfully imitated, but the 
futility of this mummery which seemed the result of vanity — 
Yorke had always prided himself in the old days on his ability 
in making up for the stage, — rather than of any serious inten- 
tion to evade recognition, disgusted me. 

“ What’s the meaning of this masquerade ? ” I asked, 
angrily, in a low tone. 

“ I’ve got to use my wits,” he replied, leading me into the 
library, “ things are getting a bit warm.” 

“ Your wits,” said I, contemptuously, “ it looks as if you 
had lost them, to think of diverting suspicion by changing 
your make-up every other day. It is just the thing to con- 
vince anyone of your real character.” 

“ Oh, that is your opinion. It’s good to get impartial criti- 
cism. But that’s not what you have come to give me. You’ve 
come to give me some advice, I dare say.” 

His sarcastic tone irritated me ; but subduing that as well 
as I could, I replied : 

“ I have come to advise you — not for your own sake, you 
may be pretty sure, but for Kitty’s. You know the theatre is 
burnt down.” 

“ Three o’clock Friday morning ; no one injured.” 

“ I thought you might feel anxious about her all the same,” 
said I, nettled by his tone of indifference. “ And it was to 
prevent you coming to the Mill-House for information that I 
have walked all this distance. Kitty is there. 

He nodded as if this fact were known to him. Plowever, 
not to be discouraged, I tried to stir him from his apathetic 
condition by narrating fully all that had happened, and ex- 
posing the true position of affairs. Not a single word of 


KJTTY 'S FA THER. 


259 

mine altered his impassive attitude. He listened in exasperat- 
ing silence, seated by the table, slowly tracing the pattern of 
the table-cover with the end of a pen-holder, and never once 
raised his eyes. 

“ I have shown you,” said I, in recapitulation, “ that Shep- 
herd has betrayed you, and as a proof you will find the will 
gone from the trunk in which you kept it. Kitty has been 
induced to believe that you are innocent, though even Mr. 
Sherridan perceives a lingering doubt in her mind. I have 
shown you that if you but take the simple precaution of leaving 
England for a few weeks, she will be married to Mr. Sherridan, 
and on the other hand that if she discovers that you are 
the man whom Sherridan and Singleton and all who know 
the facts regard as a murderer and thief, she is likely to 
accept the bait laid for her by the priest 1 spoke of. And 
now,” said I, in conclusion, “ if you have one spark of affec- 
tion for your daughter, one grain of common-sense and pru- 
dence, you will throw up this silly masquerading game, and 
put the channel between yourself and the men, who, as I have 
proved, are hunting you down to an infamous end.” 

“ You have proved nothing, Dick,” said he calmly, still re- 
garding the table-cloth. 

“ Well,” said I, “ if you will believe the evidence of your 
own eyes, you have only to go outside the walls of that garden 
to be convinced. Singleton’s spies are out there. I saw 
them.” 

This touched him. He was on the alert in an instant. 

“ What spies ? ” he asked sharply, fixing me with his eyes, 
which were keen enough in their energy now. 

“ A couple of fellows, were looking through the gate as I 
came up. They sneaked down Love Lane when they saw me. 
But only by the way they regarded me, I could see they were 
detectives.” 

“ What sort of fellows were these detectives ? ” he asked 
quickly. 

“ Why, just such a pair of blackguards as you and your pal 
looked at Chester Races.” 

“ You say they turned down Love Lane,” he said, rising ; 
and before I had finished my reply, he stepped outside and 
disappeared. 

Following quickly to the window, I perceived him giving 
hurried directions to Roberts, in a tone that was inaudible to 
me, clearly showing that the man’s deafness was, as I sus- 


26 o 


KITTY FA THER. 


pected, assumed, probably, to make me raise my voice and 
give Yorke warning. When he had taken Yorke’s instructions, 
the old man slipped off nimbly by the walk in the shrubbery 
leading to the out-houses, which, as I have said, opened on 
to Love Lane.” 

“ It’s getting warmer and warmer,” said Yorke, as he came 
back to me — “ that is if you have not discovered another 
mare’s nest.” 

He took up his clerical hat, which he had removed on sit- 
ting down, put it on carefully, and going to the window looked 
out with evident anxiety towards the shrubbery walk. I 
stood behind him, looking in the same direction with growing 
anxiety. For three or four minutes we waited in silent sus- 
pense ; then Roberts coming from the w^alk at a brisk pace, 
nodded and jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direc- 
tion of Love Lane. 

“ What did I tell you ? ” I asked, not without a little exult- 
ation. 

“ I must see for myself,” replied Yorke, creasing his brow. 

Come on.” 

We went down to the gate which he opened with a key of 
his own, and we passed out into the road : there he at once 
assumed all the characteristic mannerisms of the curate, as 
he accompanied me in the direction of Love Lane. 

“ I shall stop at the corner,” said he ; “ you will shake hands 
with me, but mind you don’t look down the lane.” 

And at the corner of Love Lane, we stopped. Yorke had 
taken the outside of the path commanding an uninterrupted 
view down the lane as he turned to give me his hand. 

“ I see them,” said he, maintaining the curate’s mannerism, 
but speaking in a low tone as if he were simply confiding some 
item of local gossip, “ one has ostler’s leggings, the other a 
velveteen jacket, both wearing deerstalker hats.” 

How he could have noted all these facts in the single cursory 
glance he cast down the turning, passed my comprehension ; 
but the brief description was sufficient to identify them. 

“Those are the fellows,” said I. 

“ This is certainly getting warm,” he said, wagging his head, 
with Shepherd’s bland smile. “ They’re not ordinary loafers, 
and they are sitting on the bank exactly opposite the side- 
gate. It looks as if you were right for once.” 

“ Then, now that you see your danger, you’ll get out of the 
country at once.” 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


261 


“ I don’t know. I must know a little more about these 
gentry first. It won’t do to bolt out of cover in the very teeth 
of the hounds. And so,” raising his voice to a sufficiently 
audible pitch, “ Good-hye, my deah Mr. Holderness, so glad 
to have seen you, so grateful for your little visit.” 

With a parting shake of the hand he left me, and I had no 
option but to pursue my course. When I glanced back at 
the angle of the road, Yorke was going into the vicarage and 
a couple of deerstalker hats, just above the paling at the 
corner of the lane showed me that the two men had come up 
there and were doubtless watching me out of sight. 

I was now not without hope that Yorke would profit by 
this warning, and the consciousness of having done my duty 
certainly gave me some satisfaction as I trudged homewards ; 
but that which comforted me still more was the offer of a lift 
from a kind-hearted young farmer, who saw me painfully 
plodding along in the shade of the hedge with my hat in my 
hand. I never enjoyed a drive more in my life, and, thanks 
to the time saved by this conveyance, I reached the mill ten 
minutes before Jack and Kitty returned, which obviated lying 
to the extent which would otherwise have been necessary, 
for I calculated that afoot I could not have got home before 
three o’clock, and then in what condition to lie with a bold 
face may be easily conceived. 

Directly after breakfast, the next morning, Kitty, with a 
note-book and pencil, and Jack with a yard measure went 
systematically through all the rooms, making an inventory of 
the things they required to make the house home-like — a 
“ property plot ” they called it — and a most enjoyable occu- 
pation this was, to judge by their laughter, and the happiness 
that glowed in their faces. Then, after an early lunch, we 
drove over to Chester where the curtains and things were to 
be bought. Kitty held the reins, and drove in a manner that 
won Jack’s thorough approval. But I must say the pace was 
too fast for me, and the way in which she would pass other 
vehicles on the road at full speed made me wince in appre- 
hension of collision ; the slightest shock, I kept thinking, 
would be sufficient to shoot one off the back seat of the dog- 
cart, if at that moment he happened to loosen his hold upon 
the back of his slippery seat. 

“Which way, Jack dear.?” she asked, as we sighted the 
cross road. 

“Right,” replied Jack, “the other leads through St. 


262 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


Botolph’s — could not very well pass the Cedars without call- 
ing on the Strongs, and we have no time for that to-day.” 

“ But we will go there to-morrow,” said Kitty. “ The 
admiral and I got on very well together, and — and I want to 
know Miss Strong.” 

When we drove into the town, Kitty, who had given up 
the reins, asked Jack to stop at a hair-dresser’s ; and as she 
could not let either him or me purchase what she needed, we 
suffered her to go into the shop alone. While Jack was stand- 
ing by the side of the trap, chatting idly with me, Mr. 
Feverell, coming down the street, caught sight of him and 
stopped. 

“ I wanted to see you, Mr. Sherridan,” said he. “ Can 
you tell me if Mr. Shuttle has any intention of purchasing 
the vicarage ? ” 

“ I can’t tell you. But I should say it is highly improbable. 
I am very sorry we let him the place.” 

“ He seems to be a peculiar character, to be sure,” said 
the auctioneer with a smile, “ and there are some nasty rumors 
floating about. However, we knew nothing of them when we 
let the house, and the security we hold insures us against 
loss. It would have been folly to refuse his offer. How- 
ever, I am to understand that at the expiration of his term 
the house will be in the market. I’ve a client ” 

“ One moment, Feverell. I may as well tell you at once 
that the vicarage is no longer my property. You will prob- 
ably hear from my solicitor in a few days. In the meantime, 
if there is any chance of selling the property, you had better 
speak to Admiral Strong on the matter — he is the owner 
now.” 

“ Strange he never said a word about it to me when we 
met an hour ago : and there’s not much reserve about the 
admiral. For one thing he seems to be altogether taken up 
with the investigation of the crime there. I am told,” he 
added, in a tentative tone, “ that he has employed Singleton 
to hunt down the criminal party.” 

“ Indeed,” said cautious Jack. “ Do you know Singleton ? ” 

“Not personally, but I wish I did. A wonderful man, 
from what I hear. One thing is clear — if Shuttle’s the man 
he’s hunting down we may expect to hear that he’s shifted 
his residence to the county jail before long. The place is 
watched day and night, Fm told.” 

“ Perhaps Shuttle will take alarm and bolt,” I suggested. 


KITTY'S FA TIIER. 


263 


“ No fear, sir. I saw him standing at the gate as I drove 
in this morning, chipping a stick, with that big gray Yankee 
felt hat of his on the back of his head, looking as innocent 
as you, sir, and as ignorant of danger.” 

Kitty, coming from the shop, put an end to the gossip. 
Was Yorke mad.? I asked myself. He was still lingering 
sluggishly at the vicarage, and the only result of my persua- 
sion was that he had abandoned the fatuous idea of passing 
himself off as the curate, and re-assumed his Chicago char- 
acter. 

Our next stopping-place was the Registry office. I stayed 
by the mare’s head, while Kitty and Jack went in — Kitty 
looking a little awed by the gravity of this preliminary step 
to her marriage. But her eyes were sparkling and her cheek 
flushed with blushing pleasure when they came out. 

“ In fifteen days we shall be married,” said Jack, exul- 
tantly, as he took the rein from my hand. 

“ Fifteen days,” said I to myself; “will Yorke escape dis- 
covery so long .? ” 


264 


KITTY'S FATHER, 


CHAPTER XLI. 

A SKIRMISH WITH THE ADMIRAL. 

We went home from Chester laden with parcels, and more 
followed later on by the carrier ; and but for my vexation of 
spirit and depressing anxiety with regard to Yorke, I should 
have been as happy as Jack and Kitty the next morning 
when all the packets were opened in the long room, the con- 
tents laid out, and the effect of the new curtains and rugs 
and carpets tried by temporary display in the places they 
were intended for. All this was quite a new experience for 
Kitty, who had never yet had a real home of her own : she 
was eager to begin the necessary fitting and making up of 
the draperies, and reluctantly put off this fascinating busi- 
ness to the following day in order that her visit should be 
paid to the Strongs after lunch. 

Clouds threatened rain ; but that did not prevent Kitty 
arraying herself in her very best : charming indeed she looked 
when she came down from her lengthy toilette, and the con- 
viction that she looked nice, gave a certain dignity to her 
carriage, which, together with her high-heeled boots, added 
a good inch to her stature and gave her the air of a little 
duchess. Having a new and remarkably tight-fitting pair 
of gloves on, she suffered Jack to drive, but that allowed her 
to talk more freely, and full of lively chat, they both were 
all the way. The prospect of meeting Jack’s fine friends in 
no way damped her spirits ; it was not a difficulty of that 
kind which could intimidate her. 

“ If I am good enough for Jack, I’m good enough for 
Jack’s friends,” she had said to me when I hinted something 
about putting on our best manners as well as our best dress, 
for the visit. “ And as I have won his love without one 
effort, it is not likely that I shall play a part to please his 
friends. They shall like me for myself or not at all.” 

Jack took the St. Botolph’s Road, and as we approached 
the vicarage I trembled lest Yorke should be whittling his 
stick at the gate as Mr. Feverell had seen him the day be- 


KITTY'S FA TIIER. 


265 

fore, and from a spirit of bravado or sheer indifference refrain 
from moving on our approach. Happily this fear was not 
realized. There was no one at the gate, nor anyone that I 
could detect in the vicinity except a nursemaid with a peram- 
bulator. We passed the house without any comment to 
direct Kitty’s attention to it, and a couple of minutes after 
we pulled up before the Cedars. 

We found the admiral in his garden coat, trimming the 
yew hedge with a pair of shears. 

“ Miss Kitty,” said he, offering his hand, “ I’m honestly 
glad to see you. Jack couldn’t have brought a more accept- 
able excuse for having forsaken us so long. I forgive you. 
Jack, and there’s t’other hand for you. But,” he continued, 
grasping my hand in turn, “ I’m afraid by the cut of your jib, 
Mr. Politeful, you intend this for a ceremonious visit. But 
that won’t do. Ten minutes’ chat about nothing won’t sat- 
isfy us. I’ve broken bread with you. Miss Kitty, and you 
wall have to repay the compliment.” 

He continued in this style as he led us to the house, 
where we were met on the threshold by Miss Strong, to 
whom he at once introduced Kitty. 

“ Well, my dear,” said he, ‘‘ this is Miss Yorke, though I 
needn’t tell you that, for besides seeing her on the stage 
you’ve heard my praises, and may now learn by your own 
senses that no one but she could merit ’em.” 

The tw^o young women regarded each other keenly as he 
spoke, and then, as if moved by mutual impulse to atone for 
past prejudice, each held out both hands to the other and 
they embraced affectionately. 

The next half hour or so was occupied in casting anchor, 
as the admiral put it, and not a word was said upon the 
subject which I was most anxious to hear discussed until we 
had taken tea, when Miss Strong said : 

“ Oh, Mr. Sherridan, I have a letter from Mr. Shepherd to 
show you — a love-letter depicting at greater length the 
charms of that living in the Essex marshes, and formally 
offering his hand. It is quite too funny ! ” then, turning to 
Kitty, she added, “You have heard of the comedy in which 
we made that miserable young man play a part ! ” 

“ I have no reason to find fault with your comedy, Mr. 
Jack,” said the admiral, “but to make it complete' you 
should have tacked on another act and brought that vagabond 
parson to the gallows, or penal servitude fcr life at the hast. 


265 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


Now, Miss Kitty, we’ve heard that you lent a generous help- 
ing hand to the production of t’other play, cannot you sug- 
gest some method of punishing the villain according to his 
deserts, and satisfying what I believe you call ‘ poetical 
justice ? ’ ” 

“ I should certainly marry Miss Strong to somebody par- 
ticularly nice to begin with,” suggested Kitty, laying her 
hand on the arm of her new friend. 

“ Well, I think that arrangement is already made, eh, 
Nell ? ” said the admiral, with a pleasant laugh. “ You may 
put down the name of Captain Dysart for that part. A fine, 
honest man after my own heart,” he added, turning to Jack. 
“ When he heard that we had lost our fortune, he candidly 
told us that he couldn’t afford to marry my Nell ; but now 
thafs all altered and we look to see him here in a day or 
two. Well, Miss Kitty, what punishment would you next 
inflict on the rascal ? ” 

“ Why, then, I would condemn him to live alone in the 
Essex marshes.” 

“ To be sure, that would be punishment enough for a man 
with a generous soul and a love of cheerful company ; but I 
fancy this curate would only regret the loss of my Nell as a 
cheap servant, and would be perfectly content with solitude 
if he succeeds in swindling the public as successfully as 
other peddling clerics who do not blush to advertise their 
traffic. Now, I had a better notion than that. I would have 
had Nell appoint a meeting in some snug corner of the gar- 
den where I could be hid up with an end of tarred rope about 
an inch thick and two foot and a half long, and then she 
should have led him on to lay his hand on her, when out I 
come, with my blood well up, and baste him down with the 
rope-end till the hemp gave out. But Nell’s a bit squeamish 
about the part she has to play, which is perhaps not al- 
together consistent with maidenly reserve, and, after all, a 
thrashing is not good enough for such a rascal.” 

“ I should say that the punishment met the justice of such 
a case,” said Jack with a laugh, “ considering he has got the 
will for us.” 

“ Not a bit of it, Mr. Jack. He’d get over his welting in 
three weeks or a month, and be never a penny the better for 
it. As for getting us the will, he simply gave up what was 
no longer of any use to him, and got well paid for it. And 
that is what galls me again, to think that five hundred pounds 


A'l TTY'S FATHER. 267 

of my money is to be paid to that rascal, for having robbed 

me.’* 

“ You still maintain that he is the real culprit, sir.? ” I ven- 
tured to say, inspired by that one gleam of hope. 

“ Maintain it ! aye, that I will, to the last. I will stick to 
my colors, though the evidence leave never a leg to stand on, 
and I have to fight it out like old Benbow, on my stumps.” 

“ Then you have but little faith in Singleton,” said Jack, 
highly amused by the admiral’s anger, and seeking to provoke 
him still further. 

“ Singleton ! Why’s he’s another thief, and but a shade or 
two less deeply dyed than t’other. He takes one five hun 
dred. Shepherd the other — a division of plunder worthy of 
such a pair. What has he done since he gave up the will, 
and drew my note for the reward .? Nothing. He’s got all 
he was after, and doesn’t intend to waste more time on the 
business.” 

“ I hope with all my heart you are right,” said Jack, “for 
I’ve blamed myself for harboring a couple of rogues in the 
vicarage, through want of proper forethought.’ 

“ You need trouble yourself no further on that point, Mr. 
Jack, for I give you my word. Shuttle is blameless. I caught 
sight of him in the orchard, when I went to have a look at 
the gun this morning, and, just for the sake of argument, I 
hailed him and bade him know that he looked more like a 
thief than a horse, and gave him other like pieces of my mind. 
Thereupon he opened fire and the way he gave me blow for 
blow, and stood to his guns convinces me that he’s as honest 
a man as ever breathed.” 

This so delighted me that, smacking my legs, I burst into 
a fit of laughter which continued until the admiral, somewhat 
ruffied by my mirth, asked me brusquely whether I considered 
his conduct particularly ridiculous, or w^hat the dickens it was 
that tickled me. Expecting nothing less than a broadside to 
my own account, I became grave in a moment, assuring the 
admiral that I found nothing ludicrous in his behavior, and 
was merely smiling at the error a professional detective had 
fallen into. Then I asked him if he could account for the 
portraits of Mr. Shuttle in various disguises, which I was told 
Singleton had shown to Mr. Shepherd. 

“ Why, that’s as plain to me as the smile on your face, Mr. 

Sarcastic, and be d d to you,” he added, dropping his voice 

to a tone that could not be heard by the ladies at the other 


268 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


end of the room. “ Tis a lie of Shepherd’s or a lie of Single- 
ton’s, and whether it’s one or whether it’s the other that lied, 
matters not two straws, for we know they are rascals, the pair 
of ’em.” 

“Naturally,” said Jack, in his quiet, deliberate tone, “ Sin- 
gleton, gauging Shepherd’s character, would offer him a pre- 
text for restoring the will, without implicating himself.” 

“ And naturally,” chimed in the admiral, “ such a villain 
as Shepherd would jump at any means for diverting suspicion 
from himself, and be only too happy to bring anyone to the 
gallows, to keep his own neck out of the halter. And look 
you, Mr. Jack, for you seem to have some glimmerings of 
reason in your head, if this story of finding the will in Mr. 
Shuttle’s box was true, do you think Singleton, with another 
thousand pounds in view, would hesitate a moment to obtain 
a warrant, and apprehend the Yank on the parson’s evidence, 
backed by the past record he professes to have against 
him ? ” 

“ Why, certainly not ! ” I exclaimed, in honest exultation. 

“ Why, certainly not,” echoed the admiral, mimicking my 
tone and scowling at me, for I believe he fancied I spoke in 
irony, and was ridiculing his theory, “ and the proof that 
it is ‘ certainly not ’ is that Shepherd is afraid to show his 
face in the neighborhood, and Singleton has abandoned the 
case.” 

“ Did you answer that letter, Kitty ? ” asked Miss Strong. 

“ No ; my father wished me to keep him in a state of uncer- 
tainty as long as possible.” 

“ Aye, my dear, and why should we waste so much as a 
drop of ink to satisfy him. He has written to me for the pay- 
ment of the bills he brought up, but I haven’t answered that 
request, and I don’t intend to, either. If he had Nell’s 
answer and my money for those bills, he would be off, and 
out of danger to-morrow. But while there’s the barest possi- 
bility of getting money, avarice will keep him within our reach, 
and who knows but that something yet may turn up to con- 
vict him. You may think, Mr. Smirker ” (this to me) “that 
my faith is about as water-logged as my wisdom, but I’ll 
tell you this, I have a mighty belief in the justice of Provi- 
dence.” 

“ Amen,” said I, with the devout hope that his conclusions 
might be verified and the curate be found guilty. But it 
seemed as though the admiral was bound to misconstrue my 


JCITTY'S FATHER. 269 

most innocent utterance, for turning on me with another black 
look, he said : 

“ You mean to hint, that I’ve preached enough by clapping 
in your amen, eh ? You’re coming on well. When we first 
met, you couldn’t say boo to a goose, but I thought I should 
draw you out, if we only rubbed together a bit. I like you 
all the better for it ; but if you would show your guns, and 
fight a little more openly, with not quite so much of this sar- 
casm and sly double meaning, I should love you more.” 

Jack dropped his arms on his knees, and bending his head, 
bit his lips to keep from laughing ; for he knew well enough, 
how guiltless I was of employing either sarcasm or double- 
meaning. 

“ And now, Mr. Jack,” said the admiral, after a pause, “ tell 
me, have you heard from your lawyer ? ” 

“Not yet. They do nothing in a hurry. But I suppose 
he has arranged with your solicitor respecting supplies ” 

“ That’s all right, my boy ; I’ve money in my pocket, and 
can meet a beggar now without looking up in the air, and 
calling to mind all that your parsimonious philanthropists 
have prated about the sin of indiscriminate charity. With 
regard to the property, I expect you will stand as stiffly on 
justice as I did.” 

Jack nodded. 

“ But you will bear in mind, my lad, that there were certain 
debts which I told you, honestly, I didn’t intend to pay 
you.” 

“ Yes ; and the estate is less by some hundreds than when 
it came into my hands. Those hundreds I intend with equal 
honesty of purpose to stick to.” 

“ Bravo, give and take.” The admiral shook hands. 
“ I’ve bade my man dispose of one half of the property in 
such a manner that no one but you can touch a farthing. 
There it is for you, and if you don’t like it you may leave it. 
Not a farthing of it will I touch. As for the legal transfer, that 
will be made in due time, I daresay, but I care not when, so 
that I have a sovereign or two in my pocket. And now if I 
could only have my way with that parson. But there — as 
he’s in league with Singleton, we may as lief expect to see one 
as t’other.” 

Curiously enough, at that very moment, a servant crossed 
the room and said, “ If you please, sir, Mr. Singleton wishes 
to see you.” 


270 


KITTY'S FA THER, 


CHAPTER XLII. 

THE NET BEGINS TO CLOSE. 

When the admiral turned the conversation to the question 
of property, Miss Strong rose and went with Kitty into the 
adjoining room to join Miss Forsyth ; thus, when the servant 
brought Singleton’s message, there was rib one else in the 
room but the admiral. Jack and I. 

“ Let Mr. Singleton come in here,” said the admiral, add- 
ing as he turned to us, “ Amongst us w^e may discover what 
new tactics he is upon.” 

Singleton entered the room, smart and clean-cut as ever, 
hat in hand, stopped on the threshold to make a bow ; then 
closing the door with instinctive care and silence, he crossed 
and took the chair indicated by the admiral. 

“ I daresay you are surprised to see me again so soon,” he 
said. 

“ So soon ! ” exclaimed the admiral, “ you’ve delayed show- 
ing yourself so long, that I gave up all expectation of ever 
seeing you again. Well, what’s in the wind now ? ” 

have met these gentlemen before. I suppose I may 
speak with perfect confidence in their secrecy,” said Mr. 
Singleton, fixing his eye particularly on me. 

“ As much as in mine. I have no secrets from them. Now, 
get to work, if you please.” 

“ Have you seen Mr. Shuttle, lately ? ” 

“ This morning.” 

He is still at the vicarage ? ” 

“ He is.” 

“ And Mr. Shepherd — have you seen him since I was here 
last ? ” 

“ No.” 

“You have not heard of his being seen in the neighbor- 
hood.” 

“No, I have not, and I warrant you know more about him 
than I do.” 

“ Possibly,” Mr. Singleton replied, stroking his chin reflec- 


KITTY^S FATHER. 


271 

tively. “ May I ask you, sir, if he has applied to you for the 
payment of certain bills of yours in his possession ? ” 

“ He has, and I don’t intend to pay ’em until I am com- 
pelled ? ” 

“ I’m glad to hear you say so, sir. I must beg you to keep 
that resolution. Witnesses, especially clerical witnesses, are 
reluctant to appear in the witness-box — can’t stand cross-ex- 
amination, and it is of the utmost importance that we should 
be able to lay our hands on him with a subpoena at any 
moment.” 

“ I wager he’d rather sacrifice those bills than submit to 
such a raking fire as a counsel could turn on him. But look 
you here, Mr. Ferret, if you are so precious anxious to keep 
him within arm’s reach, what the dickens did you pay him 
that five hundred for .? ” 

“ I did not pay him,” replied Singleton softly, with a 
lengthy shake of the head. 

“ You told me that you had given him a check in exchange 
for the will.” 

“ And I did. But the check was dishonored. And there 
will be no deposit in the bank to meet that check until this 
affair is wound up satisfactorily.” 

“ Gammon ! You could have obtained a Warrant to appre- 
hend him the day he showed that the will was in his posses- 
sion.” 

“ Which would have suited Mr. Shuttle down to the ground. 
And while we were trying to get a conviction against Mr. 
Shepherd for unlawful possession, the murderer would have 
slipped through our fingers. That would not have been 
very much to our credit.” 

“ I should be very glad to hear of any proceeding that 
would,” said the admiral, pointedly. 

Singleton smiled, put his hand in his breast-pocket, and 
brought out a small flat parcel ; removed the elastic band that 
bound it, unfolded the paper with loving care, and exposed 
an oblong piece of wood. My heart was in my mouth, for 
at the first glance I recognized the carving upon it and the 
color. 

“ Have you seen that before ? ” he asked, putting it in the 
admiral’s hands. “ Smell it,” he added, as the admiral 
turned it over, clearly unable to make out what it was. 

“ There’s a sort of a spicy smell about it,” said the admi- 
ral, passing it on to Jack. 


2/2 


KITTY'S FA TIIER. 


“ It is sandal-wood,” said Singleton, “ and part of the 
box which contained the will and other papers. The rest 
of the box is at home. I took it to pieces for convenience, 
and brought that to convince you on 'some points which may 
induce you to give us more assistance than you have shown 
yourself ready to accord. Above all things it may show you 
the advisability of concealing your hand from Mr. Shuttle.” 

“ What do you mean by that t ” 

“ I was not a hundred yards from you this morning when 
you roundly accused Mr. Shuttle of being a thief, adding 
certain facts which it was necessary should be concealed. 
You keep your front gate unlocked and there is a most 
convenient summer-house at the bottom of your paddock. 
That is why I am yet rather anxious to know if Mr. Shuttle 
still stays at the vicarage.” 

“ Well, I only hope that you may prove yourself as honest 
as Shuttle,” said the admiral, unshaken in his faith. 

“ I hope so also. Now, gentlemen, to return to this box,” 
continued Singleton, as he carefully enveloped the box-end. 
“ I was at Chester at the time this crime was committed, watch- 
ing a fraudulent jockey on behalf of Lord and I mixed 

with the scum of the meeting — not in this get-up, you may 
be sure. On the last day of the meeting, I heard that a 
couple of card sharpers had boasted that they could hang 
the murderer if they chose. If I had wished to occupy my- 
self in this affair, it would have been too late to find the men 
who had then cleared out with the rest of the roughs. I 
should probably have taken no more notice of this rumor, 
but that by a curious accident this sandal-wood box fell into 
my hands at Nottingham.” 

“ How did it fall into your hands ? ” asked the admiral. 
“ I suppose it did not rain sandal-wood boxes.” 

“ I got it,” replied Singleton, “ from the man who now calls 
himself Shuttle.” 

I glanced with terrible dread towards the adjoining room, 
and drew a deep breath of relief to ffnd that the door was 
closed. 

“ I had seen him at Chester. I’ve had my eye on him for 
years,, and recollecting the rumors I had heard regarding the 
two sharpers who hinted at knowing the murderer, I surmised 
that they had been confederates with him in some sharp- 
ing operations at the races, and had discovered his secret. I 
did not consider it worth while, however, to go into the 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


273 


business until I saw your advertisement, sir, in the papers. 
Then it occurred to me that something might be done by 
offering a big price for evidence : the witnesses who were not 
likely to come forward for nothing might be drawn by the offer 
of a large reward. You were good enough to accept my pro- 
posal, and I had the advertisement published in all the 
papers read by turfmen of the lower class. The result has 
answered my expectations. I Ve got my witnesses ; they were 
in Chancery Lane when I turned up at my office this morn- 
ing at nine o’clock, and I have brought them down with 
me.” 

“To identify the criminal .? ” said Jack. 

“ Precisely, sir.” 

“ What the plague is the use of all this beating up,” asked 
the admiral, “ if they said it was Shuttle .? ” 

“ That is exactly what they cannot or will not say ; it is to 
prove whether it was Shuttle that I have brought them here. 
Their evidence amounts simply to this : about daybreak on 
the 1 2th of June they were tramping into Chester. Famished 
with hunger and parched with thirst, they thought it possible 
that an open window in the vicarage might give them access 
to the larder. They scaled the wall and were making their 
way through the shrubbery, when they caught sight of a man 
carrying a dead body on his shoulder. They beat a retreat 
into the stable yard and concealed themselves in a wood-house. 
Shortly afterwards they perceived the man, bent under his 
burden, come into the yard and cross to the well. Then he 
threw down the body, attached the chain to it, and lowered 
it into the well. When this was done he replaced the chain 
and withdrew ; and my men made their escape by the gate 
opening into Love Lane. Now, during the time that the 
man was disposing of the dead body, the witnesses had 
ample opportunity to observe his features and general appear- 
ance, and both are confident that they should recognize him 
again amongst a thousand.” 

“ Instead of bringing them down here you would have done 
better to set them face to face with your friend Mr. Shep- 
herd,” growled the admiral. 

“ That is a suggestion which I shall undoubtedly act upon, 
sir, when I find that my own suspicions are misplaced. At 
present I think they are not misplaced. I have a firm belief 
that my witnesses, although for obvious reasons they disclaim 
any knowledge of Shuttle, know well enough why I have 

18 


274 


KITTY FA THER. 


brought them dow n here. One of my men, who is watching the 
place, saw them hanging about the vicarage on Sunday ; and 
I think it is conclusive that if Shuttle had given them a 
liberal amount of hush-money they would never have come 
to me. However, I propose with your assistance to settle 
whether Shuttle is the man or not this evening.” 

The admiral promised he should have all the assistance he 
required. 

“ I am much obliged to you, sir,” said Singleton. “ As 
this identification is of enormous importance, I wish to make 
the test as thorough as possible. For that purpose I intend 
to place my witnesses in the shrubbery, where they first saw 
the men carrying the body, and hope to make Mr. Shuttle 
place himself at the open window of the library in a twilight 
as nearly as possible resembling that in which they saw him 
standing there on the morning of June the 12th. If we left 
it to chance, we might watch for a week without any good 
result, but if one of you gentlemen would do me a favor I 
think we might pull it off successfully. May I ask if any of 
you is on visiting terms with Mr. Shuttle t ” 

“ You have called upon him once or twice about the loan 
of a book,” said Jack to me. 

“ The loan of a book ! ” cried Singleton in delight ; “ that’s 
the very thing ! Will you be kind enough, sir, to call upon 
him again with the same purpose ? ” 

“With pleasure,” I replied, only too glad of this oppor- 
tunity to warn Yorke. “ I’ll go at once.” 

“ Oh, no, no, no, no,” said Singleton, laying his hand on 
my arm as I rose. “ We shan’t be ready for about an hour. 
The light, I reckon, will be just right then, and I shall have 
my witnesses in position. I myself will start you, and, while 
you are going along on the outside of the wall, I shall make 
my way back to the vicarage shrubbery by the inside. I may 
rely on your doing the best you can to bring Mr. Shuttle to 
the library window; this will be tolerably easy if you pretend 
you want a book. In all probability he will go into the room 
with you to seek it, and come out with you when you leave. 
You follow me, Mr. Holderness ? ” 

“Yes,” I faltered, “I will do my best,” adding to myself, 
“ for Yorke and poor Kitty.” 

“ Well, now, gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me, I will go and 
look after my witnesses.” 

“ Where have you left ’em ? ” asked the admiral. 


KITTY^S FATHER. 


275 


“ In the tool-house at the bottom of your garden, sir. I 
took the liberty to place them there, under the care of my 
man, before I came up.” 

A light laugh came from the next room — Kitty’s. The 
poor, dear girl little knew how the net was closing round her 
father. 


276 


KI TTY 'S FA TBER, 


CHAPTER XLIII. 

THE CARD-SHARPERS RECOGNIZE KITTY’S FATHER. 

I WAS SO completely unnerved by apprehension and excite- 
ment that I felt it would be quite impossible to conceal my 
trepidation from Kitty, and so, when Singleton had left the 
room I rose, and, pretending that I wished to ask him a ques- 
tion with regard to the duty I had to perform, hastily quitted 
the room. I did not attempt to overtake Singleton ; I wanted 
only to be alone, in the open air, where I might recover my 
self-possession. A misty rain was falling; the light was 
already fading, and the low-hanging clouds deepened the sur- 
rounding gloom. As I stood at the hall door, looking out, 
Jack came to my side. 

“ The admiral is explaining the situation in there,” said he, 
in a low tone. “ Put on your overcoat, Dick. We may as 
well stroll down the garden, and save Singleton the trouble 
of coming up to the house again.” 

I did as he bade me. He himself put on his hat, and, 
linking his arm in mine kindly, walked slowly down the yew- 
bordered path to the gate. 

“ The tool-house is down there,” said I, when we reached 
the side-alley. 

He nodded in silence, and led me on. 

“ Plenty of time,” said he, when we had passed the turn- 
ing, and we said no more until we came to the gate. There 
he stopped, and glancing round in a careless manner, spoke 
again : 

“ May as well go on to the vicarage now,” said he. “ No 
need to wait for Singleton.” 

Then, for the first time, it struck me that Jack had 
fathomed the mystery of my reticence, and knew Shuttle was 
Kitty’s father. His object in sending me to the vicarage at 
once was clearly to put Yorke on his guard, and avoid ex- 
posing himself to the recognition of the witnesses, who were 
now being taken through into the adjoining garden. I looked 
into his manly face ; it wore a very grave expression now, but 


KITTY'S FA TIIER, 


277 


his eyes were full of generous sympathy, and I pressed his 
hand with an impulsive feeling of gratitude ; then I hurried 
off, making as little noise as possible, that I might not attract 
the attention of the party on the other side of the wall. 

I reached the vicarage gate, and, panting for breath, pulled 
the bell handle. It was loose in my hand. Singleton had 
cut the wire that there might be no interruption of his pro- 
ceedings. I tried the lock : it was fastened, and the key 
gone. I wasted no time, every second was precious, and, 
running on, turned down Love Lane with the purpose of get- 
ting in through the stable-yard. The gates there were 
fastened. I lifted the latch, and pushed in vain. How could 
I get at Yorke ? The walls were too high for me to scale : it 
was useless to return to the front gate ; I could not get 
through from the admiral’s paddock without being seen by 
the alert detective. How could I make Yorke hear .? There 
was no bell or knocker on this side gate. I dared not call to 
him ; the only means I could think of was to knock at the 
gate with a stone, on the chance of being heard by Yorke or 
Roberts ; and this I did. 

I rapped lightly, then waited ; knocked a little louder, and 
waited again ; then growing desperate, as the minutes flew 
by, leaving my purpose unattained, I struck the door heavily. 
The next minute, listening with my ear pressed to the door, 
I heard a bolt grating on the inside. Impatiently I waited 
the end^of this slow process; at length the grating ceased, 
and the gate began to gape. I pushed it vigorously, and, as 
it gave, found myself face to face with — Singleton. 

He let me in without comment or question, merely raising 
his finger to enjoin silence, and closed the gate with care. 
Before me was the open courtyard with the well in the mid- 
dle, heavy drops falling from the eaves plashed at intervals 
upon the sodden earth. Three figures stood near the well, 
looking spectral enough in the misty rain and gray light. As 
we drew near, I recognized the two men I had passed on 
Sunday morning ; the third might have been Singleton’s 
brother by the likeness of one to the other. 

“ It was in there,” said the man in velveteens, in a hoarse 
whisper pointing to one of the out-houses ; ‘‘ me and my pal 
was a hiding when the parson came down wiv the old man 
on his shoulder and pitched him down alongside the well, 
and that’s the chain he hoisted him up and dropped him in 
wiv.” 


278 


KITTY'S FA THEK. 


“ The parson ! ” I whispered to Singleton, “ he says the 
parson.” 

Singleton smiled at my simplicity. 

“ You don’t suppose such an old hand as Shuttle would 
omit the opportunity of slipping on somebody else’s coat if 
he found one handy. Come on,” he added in a whisper, 
leading the way across the yard to the shrubbery. 

“ We come along here, didn’t we. Bill ? ” said one of the 
men. 

“ Not a word,” murmured Singleton. 

We threaded our way slowly along the dripping walk in sin- 
gle file, that the rustle of the laurels might not betray us. I 
was close to Singleton, the man in velveteen behind me. 
Presently the latter, pressing forward, reached out his hand 
and touched Singleton’s arm. We halted immediately. 

“ Just trough there, we see him fust,” he whispered, indicat- 
ing an opening in the shrubbery. 

We approached with increased caution, and stopped where 
the evergreens permitted us to get an almost uninterrupted 
view of the front of the house. The library window appeared 
to be open, though the light was now so dim under the shadow 
of the veranda that I could not be certain on this point ; but, 
to my great relief, nobody was in sight. All was still, there 
was not a sound but the tap, now and then, of a falling drop 
on the foliage about us. We waited some time in a silence 
that was more terrible to me than I can describe ; then the 
man beside me touched Singleton’s arm, again nodding to- 
wards the window on which all our eyes were strained, and 
at the same moment I perceived a pale patch in the blackness 
of the window, the face of someone standing there. I gasped 
for breath ; it seemed as if the silence and stillness were suf- 
focating me, the sensation I have imagined to accompany 
awaking from premature burial. 

I prayed that Yorke, if it was he who stood there, might 
withdraw, for the keenest sight could not identify him where 
he then stood. That was obvious by the silence of the wit- 
nesses, and their strained attention. With difficulty one 
could make out that the patch was a face ; and nothing more 
than that was visible. But just then one of us, certainly not 
I, shifting his long restrained position, trod on a rotten stick, 
which snapped with a sharp crack. 

The sound reached Yorke’s ear ; he came from the room, 
advanced a couple of paces on the lawn, and stood there with 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


279 


his hands behind him, looking round as if to see what had 
caused the noise. To my consternation I perceived that he 
had again assumed his clerical make-up. Indistinct as his 
features were at that distance and in the dim twilight, the 
ashy pallor of his face was yet noticeable. Had the premoni- 
tion of his approaching fate come to him under the ominous 
influence of surrounding gloom ? I asked myself. 

With one last glance round he turned his back on us and 
re-entered the house ; and as he disappeared, Singleton made 
a sign to us to follow him. 

Without a whispered word, noiselessly we followed him 
back into the courtyard. He unbolted the gate and we passed 
out, one by one, into Love Lane. 

“ That’s him, master,” muttered one of the men, as soon 
as w'e were clear of the place, “ it’s him we see do the job, 
ain’t it. Bill t ” 

‘‘ I’ll take my dying oaf on it,” replied his mate. “Why, 
it’s jest his very movements as he did that morning when 
he came out, and kinder took a squinny round to see if it was 
all right afore he fetched the corpus, his werry face and long 
coat and everyfing.” 

They continued to discuss the matter in a low undertone 
until we separated at the corner of Love Lane, the witnesses 
with the man who resembled Singleton going in the direction 
of the church, while Singleton and I returned to The Cedars. 
I had not a word to say. In the path leading to the house 
we met Jack. 

“ Have you succeeded ? ” he asked. 

“ Down to the ground, sir,” responded Singleton, gleefully. 
“ Couldn’t have turned out better. Our two witnesses agree 
in swearing to Shuttle’s identity. There’s not the shadow of 
a difference in their testimony.” 

“ What is the next step,” asked Jack. 

“ First of all I must see the admiral, and then we get our 
warrant, and a couple of policemen to arrest him.” 

“ You will not be able to do that to-night.” 

“ No, sir, but to-morrow morning, first thing, we shall slap 
the bracelets on Mr. Shuttle.” 

“ The admiral is in the house,” Jack said, and turning me 
about, “ Do you mind fetching the trap, Dick ? I told the 
lad to take it to the ‘ Stag,”’ then he added, as Singleton left 
us, “ I’ll have Kitty ready by the time you return and make 
all the necessary excuses for leaving abruptly.” 


28 o 


KITTY'S FA THEK. 


“Thank you, Jack. You are a good fellow,” said I, grate- 
fully, for I knew he had arranged this sudden departure on 
my account, seeing how terribly upset I was. “I shall be 
all right when IVe had a stiff glass of hot brandy and a 
pipe.” 

I fancy I must have taken more than one stiff glass of 
brandy at the “ Stag,” for I have only the vaguest recollection 
of what followed. I remember that soon after leaving the 
Cedars, Jack pulled up for little Jimmy to jump down and 
fetch my hat which, for some unaccountable reason, had 
dropped off ; that, subsequently, the good and attentive little 
lad held on to my arm with both hands as if he expected me 
to drop off in the same erratic manner, and that for the rest 
of the journey I was troubled with a dreadful bad hiccough 
which shook my whole frame every now and then, and which 
so tickled little Jimmy’s sense of humor that, unable to contain 
himself, his merriment exploded more than once in an ill-con- 
cealed splutter. 

The long drive, however, did me good, and after a wash I 
came down to supper quite myself ; but feeling that some ex- 
cuse was necessary for my silence during the journey (I could 
not recall a single word that I had spoken to Jack and Kitty 
on the way home) I said I feared that the exciting incident 
in which I had been called upon to take a part had upset me 
somewhat. 

“ I think it has upset us all, more or less,” replied Jack, 
with a glance at Kitty, who looked unusually pale and care- 
worn, “ and as we have talked of nothing else all the evening 
we had better perhaps agree to say no more on the subject 
to-night.” 

I seconded this proposal heartily, and did my best to sup- 
port a general conversation. Kitty, too, tried to throw off 
the burden which evidently weighed upon her mind, and be 
bright and cheerful ; but the effort was too great to be sus- 
tained, and very soon after supper she confessed to fatigue 
and bade us good-night. 

“ Would you like to turn in, Dick ? ” Jack asked, returning 
to the room after a final “ good-night,” to Kitty at the foot 
of the stairs. 

“ I couldn’t go to sleep if I did,” said I. “ No, I would 
rather sit up. I’m all right now.” 

“Then we will smoke a pipe in the garden and have a talk. 
The stars are out, and it’s close indoors.” 


KITTY'S FAI'HEK. 


281 


When we had lit up and were strolling along the moist path, 
he spoke again : 

“ Kitty suspects the w^orst,” said he ; “ but she stands out 
bravely and hopes on still from sheer loyalty to her father. 
One dreads to destroy the last illusion of the poor little soul, 
and yet I am afraid the truth must come out.” 

“ At the trial t ” 

“ Oh, before that. It must not come to a trial. We must 
get him away.” 

“ But if he is to be arrested to-morrow morning how’s that 
to be done ? ” I asked. 

“ Bring him here to-night,” he replied, in the decided tone 
of a man who has thought out his problem and found the 
solution. 

“ To-night ! ” I exclaimed in astonishment. 

“ Yes. If we leave there about twelve or one o’clock we 
are not likely to be seen : in this place he is less likely to be 
discovered than anywhere else. The difficulty is about Kitty. 
Conceal him how we may she must find out that he is in the 
house before long, and then I don’t know how her illusion is 
to be sustained.” 

I suggested that I should take her to London under the 
pretext of buying a trousseau. 

“ That may be advisable. However, we can settle that when 
we have brought her father here safely. Will you come with 
me, Dick ? ” 

“ Of course I will,” said I. “ Shall we walk it ? ” 

“ No ; there’s no greater danger in driving, and if it comes 
to flight the mare’s pace may tell. Well, get the trap out, 
ready. Luckily Kitty’s room is on the other side, and the 
rush of the stream will cover the little noise we make in walk- 
ing the mare out into the road.” 


282 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


CHAPTER XLIV. 

YORKE TAKES FLIGHT AT LAST. 

We did not meet a soul on the road between the mill and 
St. Botolph’s. The night was pitch dark, for only now and 
then a £:tar pierced the clouds that obscured the moonless 
sky. 

“ How do you propose to get at him ? ” I asked. “ The 
bell wire is cut.’’ 

“ If it were not I should not ring the bell. There must be 
no noise. We must take him quickly by storm, either going 
through Strong’s grounds if his gate is unlocked, or else over 
the wall. The trap can be left down the lane. We must be 
near it now. Can you make out the turning ? ” 

As he spoke he drew in the mare to a walking pace, and 
we both peered into the darkness. Presently we descried 
the opening, and still at a walking pace we turned down, and 
stopped as we made out the silhouette of the outbuildings. 

My courage failed me considerably at the thought of invad- 
ing Yorke’s stronghold at this hour, when taking us for an 
enemy, he might put a stop to our proceedings with a pistol 
shot; nevertheless, when Jack proposed that I should stay with 
the trap, I declined the offer and said I should prefer to accom- 
pany him ; which, indeed, was no more than the truth, for the 
possibility of being assailed in the dark by Roberts was even 
more unpleasant than the prospect of facing danger in the 
company of Jack. 

“ All right,” said he, as he got down, and feeling about on 
his right, he added, “ I can hitch the rein over these palings ; 
the mare will stand quiet till we return.” 

I stepped down, and finding myself just opposite the gate, 
it occurred to me that as we had left it unfastened in quitting 
the vicarage, it would still be open unless Yorke or Roberts 
had discovered the fact later on. 

I felt about for the latch, and raising it found, to my great 
satisfaction, that the gate was unbolted. I did not like the 
notion of scaling a wall in the dark. 

“ We may as well light one of the lamps and take it with 


KITTY 'S FA THER. 283 

US to see the way,” said Jack, when he found that we could 
enter by the yard. 

“ Yes,” said I, “ it will look less as if we were trying to 
capture them,” and that Yorke might not make any mistake 
on that head I kept calling in a low, kind tone of voice as we 
advanced towards the house : “ Bob Yorke, Bob, Bob, old 

chap,” and such like phrases. 

Not a light was visible in any of the windows when we 
reached the house, and we heard no sound within after try- 
ing the doors in the front and at the back, and tapping at 
them. 

“ They do not or will not hear us,” said Jack, after rapping 
for the third time at the front door. “ However, we must 
get in somehow,” he added, going to the library window and 
examining it by the light of his lamp. 

“ Bob Yorke,” I called through the keyhole as loudly as I 
dared, “ Bob, old chap.” 

“ That will do,” said Jack, “ we don’t want everyone to 
know his name ; ” at the same moment I heard a grating 
scratch, and, glancing at Jack, perceived that he was cutting 
a pane of glass with the diamond in his finger ring. Pres- 
ently he gave the pane a smart blow with his elbow and it 
fell inward on the carpeted floor without noise. 

Yorke himself could not have done the job more neatly. 
Through the opening. Jack put his arm, undid the fastening, 
and then opened the window. He marched into the library, 
(and I followed, though with a less audacious step,) and 
throwing the light before him, entered the hall and explored 
the other rooms on the ground floor. 

“ It looks as if the birds were flown,” said he, cheerfully, 
as he ran up the stairs. And there could be no doubt that 
this was the case, when, having searched all the other rooms, 
we entered that which Yorke had obviously occupied. On 
the toilette table before the glass was the ordinary travelling 
dressing-case used by actors, open, with all its fittings of 
rouge pots, gum pots, false hair packets, brushes, hare’s feet, 
etc., displayed. And on the bed lay the clerical dress he 
had worn when I saw him last. 

“That shows that he has changed his disguise at any 
rate,” said I, pointing to the things. 

Jack picked up the long black coat and looked at it in per- 
plexity, then turning to me he said : 

“ This looks like the curate’s coat — do I understand you 


2-4 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


that Yorke wore this when the witnesses indentified him.’* 

“ Yes. Yorke had made up exactly like Mr. Shepherd. 
He’s perfectly mad about making up — it was his vanity when 
he was an actor.” 

“There’s method in his madness. Yorke is no fool. We 
may be sure he had some purpose in disguising himself.” 

“ But what end was it to serve ? ” 

“ That is what I am trying to make out. By George ! ” 
he added after a pause, “ it might have been that. He knew 
the detectives were after him.” 

“ I warned him from the first.” 

“ He also mixed with the roughs at Chester and stood as 
fair a chance as Singleton of hearing it rumored that a 
couple of sharpers had boasted of being able to hang the 
murderer.” 

“ I saw him with a gang of sharpers at Scarborough,” said 

I. 

“ Then that’s it, you may depend upon it. He’s as shrewd 
as Singleton, and I’ll be bound, he and Roberts have watched 
the detective’s movements quite as closely as Singleton has 
watched his. Singleton himself suspected that the witnesses 
had tried to get money out of Yorke before offering their 
evidence to him.” 

“ I saw them hanging about the vicarage on Sunday morn- 
ing, and pointed them out to Yorke, who saw them also.” 

“ That’s it ! ” cried Jack with increased excitement ; “ hav- 
ing refused their offer, Yorke, might know well enough 
what would follow. Not a soul came near the place, you 
may be sure, unknown to Yorke and Roberts. Without 
doubt they knew of the witnesses being brought yesterday 
afternoon to the Cedars, and understood that the object in 
bringing them was to identify him. That explains the strange 
coincidence of his showing himself on the lawn at the very 
moment Singleton had you and the rest in the shrubbery. 
Roberts may have given him the signal.” 

“ A stick snapped,” said I. 

“ There’s corroboration on every point. It’s as clear as 
day.” 

“I don’t see it,” said I, quite bewildeted. 

“ I have heard that he has shaved off his chin tuft. Did 
you ever see him in this make-up while Shepherd was with 
him ? ” 

“ No.” 


KITTY FA TUTU. 


285 

“Just so. He adopted the dress when he discovered the 
curate’s treachery as a means of retaliation and of circum- 
venting Singleton at the same time. Hang it, one cannot 
help admiring his ingenuity. It will be impossible to get a 
jury to convict him on the evidence of those witnesses.” 

“ Do you think so, Jack? ” I asked hopefully. 

“ I am certain of it. There could not have been light 
enough to distinguish his features clearly.” 

“ They were indistinct. It was the general appearance 
that resembled the curate’s.” 

“Where will the resemblance be when Yorke appears in 
the witness-box in his natural character ? ” 

“ They are unlike enough, to be sure.” 

“ The witnesses may be prepared to swear to anything for 
the sake of gain : but they will hesitate under examination 
to assert that Yorke is the man they saw last night, with 
Shepherd himself in court to shake any belief they may 
entertain. If you were in the box and I called upon you to 
swear whether the man you saw in company with those wit- 
nesses resembled Yorke more than the curate — you, in spite 
of your knowledge to the contrary, would have to admit, 
what ? ” 

“ Certainly that he most resembled the curate.” 

“Then your evidence alone would save Yorke. How- 
ever, we will not leave his fate to the decision of a jury if we 
can help it,” he added. 

“Thank Heaven,” I murmured, trembling at the bare 
possibility of having to go into a witness-box. 

Jack gave me the lamp to hold, and wrote on a page in his 
note-book these words : 

“ If you need a refuge or money, come at any hour to the 
future husband of your daughter.” 

“ There,” said he, tearing out the leaf and setting it up in 
the opened dressing-case. “ No matter who sees that, it will 
not compromise Yorke or Kitty either.” 

As we could do nothing more, we returned by the way we 
had come, closed the gate in Love Lane, and took our seats 
in the trap. 

“ I think, Dick, you had better tell me all you know about 
Yorke,” said Jack, as soon as we had started. “ There is no 
longer any necessity for silence on your part, and we shall be 
less likely to take a false step if we have a clear knowledge 
of the ground we are treading.” 


236 


KITTY'S FA TIIER. 


“ Nothing will give me greater pleasure,” I replied, “ for I 
detest keeping anything to myself, and particularly to conceal- 
ing it from a good friend like you and thereupon I told all 
I knew about Yorke, from the very beginning to the end, and 
a wonderful relief it was to get this off my mind, and speak 
without reserve at last upon a subject which I had scarcely 
dared to refer to for fear of betraying something that ought 
to be kept in the dark. 

“ It’s odd,” said Jack, in a reflective tone, when my story was 
told. Yorke’s behavior is so inconsistent with the charac- 
ter of a thorough-paced rascal that I cannot believe him guilty 
of active participation in this crime. Be that as it may, we 
must not allow Singleton to hunt him down. I’ll find him to- 
morrow morning before he can get the warrant, and buy him 
off if he’s to be bought.” 

I was awakened the next morning by the sharp crack of a 
pebble striking the window-pane ; another followed before I 
well knew where I was, and then jumping out of bed, wnth my 
heart in my mouth I ran to the window, expecting to see Yorke 
there. But it was only Jack, standing below with his arm 
round Kitty’s waist. They laughed at the terrified expres- 
sion on my face, and telling me they were getting hungry, 
Jack asked me if I would be kind enough to come down at 
my earliest convenience. I promised to be down in five 
minutes, and that which incited me to greater haste was the 
whiff of toasting bacon that came up from the kitchen. It 
would have been a sin to ‘ put back ’ anything that Mrs. Bailey 
cooked. 

The morning was fresh and bright, a brisk breeze having 
sprung up, and it gladdened my heart to think that we had 
such a friend as Jack. I knew that if Yorke was to be saved. 
Jack would save him, and I saw by my dear Kitty’s face that 
he had found means to chase away much of the terrible anx- 
iety, caused by her latent suspicion. A strong and good man 
can inspire so much confidence and hope ; it is a blessing to 
have the friendship of such a man. 

How delightful the breakfast-room looked when I came 
down ! Mrs. Bailey had lit a fire on the hearth, thinking it 
would look comfortable, and dry the air after the rain (thought- 
ful soul !) — Kitty was setting fresh flowers in the vases, with 
Jack’s assistance, and the appearance of the snowy table-cloth 
and the good things on it would have perverted the austerity 
of an anchorite. 


KITTY'S FATHER, 


- “ Lord,”- thought I, “ if anything should happen now to 
send us back into the dingy, stuffy lodgings, with their worn 
furniture and yellow linen, and their pervading reek of Yar- 
mouth bloaters ! ” 

“ Catch us a dish of trout for lunch, Dick,” said Jack, as 
he handed me a plate of eggs and bacon, the thin rashers 
nicely curled and not burnt, “ Kitty and I are going over to 
Chester. We have business there — Kitty’s shopping is not 
all over yet, and I must see Feverell ; besides that, we are 
both curious to know how Mr. Shuttle fares.” 

“ Fve had enough of that affair,” said I with a laugh, “ a 
morning’s fishing will suit me better.” 

The cheerful tone of indifference with which I was enabled 
to say this through knowing that Yorke was no longer at the 
vicarage was not without effect on Kitty. She was regarding 
me at the time ; and she must have said to herself, ‘ if that 
was my father he would not be so careless,’ and aher that 
there was a marked difference in her gaiety — it was natural, 
spontaneous and not assumed. 

This was a good beginning ; and I took it as an omen of 
better things that I caught that morning more trout than ever 
I had taken before in all my life. Mrs. Bailey was enraptured 
with them when I took my spoil into the kitchen, and I was 
so elated that I — well I’m not ashamed to confess it — I took 
that comely soul by the waist and gave her a kiss. 

“ Oh, Mr. Holderness ! ” she exclaimed, “ and there’s the 
trap just coming into the yard ! Why, Mr. Sherridan may 
have seen you.” 

“ And I don’t mind if he has,” said I stoutly ; nevertheless, 
I left the kitchen before Jack had the chance of seeing more. 

“ Shuttle has bolted,” said Jack to me, as he lifted Kitty 
from the trap. 

“ Has he though,” said I, feigning surprise ; “ well, I’m not 
sorry, for he’s never been anything but civil to me.” 

Here again the lack of astonishment and interest in my face, 
not escaping Kitty’s observation, doubtless did much to dis- 
pel her fears. She left us and ran up to her room, humming 
a tune. 

“ That’s a good sign,” said Jack, as he caught the sound. 

You’ve seen no one ? ” he asked as we strolled off toward 
the orchard. 

“ No, what news have you picked up ? ” 

“ None that we were not prepared to hear. I found Single- 


288 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


ton. Pointed out the hopelessness of trying to convict Shuttle 
on the evidence of his witnesses. He evidently had come to 
the same conclusion, seeing how the tables had been turned 
by Shuttle’s disguise. I told him I abandoned the case and 
should advise Strong to withdraw. ‘ Sir,’ said he, ‘ my credit’s 
more to me than your support or Admiral Strong’s, and I 
shall go on with this case to the very last.’ ” 

“ Well, let him try,” said I, in a tone of confidence. 

“ M — yes,” Jack replied dubiously, “ he’ll try whether we 
let him or not. We cannot afford to be too careless, Dick.” 
“ Why, what can he do ? ” 

“ Well, I’m afraid he intends to get the curate out of the 
way. Happily, he doesn’t know where to find him, despite 
his assertion. That is evident from the fact that he has been 
to Strong this morning asking for information. But the 
letter Strong received had no address, and the answer was 
to be sent to a post-office. You see if he does spirit Shepherd 
away, our defence is terribly weakened, for we cannot shake 
the evidence of the witnesses by confronting them with the 
curate and making them doubt their own senses.” 

“ Then what are we to do. Jack ? ” 

“ Find the curate,” he replied decisively. 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


289 


CHAPTER XLV. 

I FIND MR. SHEPHERD AGAIN. 

“ Find the curate/’ — that was easier said than done. 

We knew he was in London by the postal address he had 
j sent to the admiral : that was our only clue to his where- 
abouts, and this clue was also in the possession of Singleton, 

! who, doubtless, was already following it up. It was ridicu- 
j lous to think of beating him at work of this kind, and the 
I attempt might lead him to suspect the very thing it was most 
important to conceal, namely our connection, and sympathy 
: with Yorke. Jack wrote a long letter to his solicitor, Mr. 
Cunningham, to whom he had already telegraphed — but more 
than this nothing could be done. 

We relied now on Yorke putting himself beyond the reach 
of Singleton and the police, and as a couple Of days passed 
without our hearing a word about him or Singleton our con- 
fidence increased. Our present surroundings, the delightful 
home-life at the Mill, Kitty’s occupation in adorning the 
house. Jack’s cheerful society, and the general sense of peace 
and happiness that prevailed, all helped to lull us into tran- 
quillity. But as a man can never be quite content for long, an 
uncanny feeling began to creep over me, that it was about 
time I found something to do. I had no intention of making 
myself a pensioner on Jack, and the amount of my savings 
did not permit me to think, except with despondency, of retir- 
ing from my profession ; and so I was not displeased to re- 
ceive by the first post on Saturday morning a letter which 
held out the prospect of re-engagement. I say a prospect, for 
there was no definite offer made, the letter running thus : 

21 West St., Crev/e. 

“ Sir : 

“ If you can make it convenient to call upon me to-morrow, 
(Saturday) afternoon or evening (not later than 9 o’clock) we 

19 


290 


XI TTY FA THER. 


may possibly be able to transact a little matter of business 
greatly to your advantage. 

“Yours most truly, 

“ Edwin Goodman.” 

“ Do you know Mr. Goodman ? ” Jack asked, when I 
showed him the letter. 

“ Never to my knowledge heard his name before.” 

“ He is not accustomed to writing business letters, I should 
say, by his hand and queer style : and it’s odd that he should 
know your address, being a stranger to you — odd, too,” he 
added, pulling his moustache, “ that he is so vague about the 
nature of the business — there’s very little music going on in 
Crewe, I imagine. Shall you reply ? ” 

“ Yes, Jack. I shall run over there in the afternoon. I can’t 
afford to let the chance of an engagement slip through my 
fingers. As to the oddity of the letter, that’s nothing : men 
in our profession are odd. I’ve been out of work sometime, 
and I’m getting a little anxious.” 

“ As you please, old fellow. But of course you cannot 
leave us before we are married.” 

I reached Crewe between four and five in the afternoon, 
and in West Street found that No. 21 was nothing but a cof- 
fee tavern of the usual cheap and cheerless description. A 
dirty girl was rubbing up a great copper urn on the counter, 
and when I asked for Mr. Goodman, she called up the echo- 
ing stairs, “ Mr. Goodman, you’re wanted,” and went on with 
her cleaning, without bestowing a single word or a second 
glance on me. 

As Mr. Goodman was some time in replying to the call, 
I seated myself on one of the boxes and took up a dirty jour- 
nal to beguile the time, saying that I had certainly done a 
foolish thing to come so far without better security of being 
repaid for my trouble. At length there was a step on the 
stairs, and then, I caught sight of a young man whom for a 
moment I failed to recognize : but as he came towards me, 
his mincing gait, the smile on his face, and his manner of 
carrying his hands before him like a seal’s flappers, left no 
doubt as to his identity. It was Mr. Shepherd, but so 
changed that a casual observer, unacquainted with his char- 
acteristic mannerisms would certainly not have known him 
for the curate of St. Botolph’s. He wore a light tourist suit, 
a green tie, and a brown billycock hat ; but that which most 
disguised him was a scraggy beard and moustache. At our 


KITTY 'S FA THER. 


291 


prev'ous meeting I had noticed a kind of fluffiness upon his 
cheek and lip, but as its color was identical with his sandy 
complexion, it was scarcely noticeable. Since then it had 
grown considerably and changed its color to a purplish 
black, which I attributed to the use of a dye. 

“ So sorry to keep you waiting, my deah Mr. Holderness,” 
said he. “ I was just putting on this gay new suit of clothes. 
How do you think I look in them ? ” 

“ I should not have known you,” said I. 

This information seemed to give him great satisfaction, for 
he put several questions to elicit further assurance of the 
fact before coming to the point which concerned me more. 

“ Thank you so much for coming to see me ; it is so kind of 
you,” said he at length. 

“ I came to see Mr. Goodman on a matter of business.” 

“ I am Mr. Goodman,” said he, tapping his waistcoat with 
a furtive glance towards the girl at the counter. “ But you 
must come up into my little room to hear all I have to tell 
you.” 

I followed him up the bare stairs to a comfortless little 
room on the first floor, and there, having fastened the door, 
he gave me one chair and took the other with a gleeful 
smile. 

“ And so Mr. Sherridan is going to marry Miss Kitty after 
all,” he began. 

“ Yes,” I replied ; “ but I should be glad to know how you 
learned the fact.” It struck me that he had brought me from 
Chester for the purpose of pumping me, and I resolved that 
I would get as much out of him as I could for my railway 
fare. 

“ Ah, you must not think,” said he, shaking his finger at 
me waggishly, “ that all my kind Christian friends at St. 
Botolph’s have forgotten me. Oh no, no, no, no, no ! There 
is a deah young person in the Sunday-school whom you will 
hear about one of these days, perhaps, for we correspond 
very regularly, and I hear all that is going on. I have heard 
that the notice is put up at the registry office, and that you drive 
over to Chester very often, and that Mr. Sherridan is spend- 
ing a great deal of money at Mr. Rotherham’s, the upholsterer. 
I am afraid he is just as reckless and extravagant as evah, 
and that he takes no more care of his money now than when 
he had a large fortune at his command.” 

“ Not a bit,” said I, putting on a look of vexation which 


292 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


I was far from feeling, thinking that I must sustain the part 
I had previously played. “ He is just the same as ever. 
He would throw away his last sovereign as freely as if he had 
thousands in the bank.” 

“ And I find that his comedy is no longer being played in 
London.” 

“ True, there’s nothing coming in and everything going 
out.” 

“ But what a dreadful prospect that is for deah Miss 
Kitty. What will become of them when all is spent and no 
credit is to be obtained. Of course you would do your utmost 
to keep them and the little family, which is sure to come, 
from starvation ; but I dare say you have not more money 
than you know what to do with.” 

“ That’s a truth. I’m out of work. And it was anxiety 
on that account that brought me over here.” 

“No more money than you know what to do with,” he re- 
peated in a tone of abstraction, taking no notice of my reply, 
“ would you think me very rude, my deah Mr. Holderness, if 
I asked you how much money you have ? ” 

I did think the question decidedly rude, but being thrown 
off my guard by surprise I replied with a little hesitation that 
my savings amounted to about six hundred pounds. 

“ Six hundred pounds is very little,” said he with a rueful 
shake of the head. “ Very little, indeed. The fact is, I 
thought of proposing a little business speculation which 
would provide against that rainy day which I foresee must 
damp Miss Kitty’s future— a perfectly safe little investment, 
but I’m afraid six hundred pounds will not be sufficient to 
meet my requirements. Now, if you could make it ten 
hundred ” 

“ I don’t see how I’m to do that,” said I, wondering what 
on earth the investment could be. 

“ Have you no kind Christian friends who would lend you 
four hundred ? ” 

“ Well, I’ve a brother in the same line as yourself, but I 
don’t think he would part without good security and a large 
interest.” 

“ I suppose Mr. Sherridan could not raise the money if he 
would.” 

“ He might,” said I, with a tone of calculation, wishing to 
discover what the curate was driving at. “ The Mill House is 
his property ; he bought it before the will was produced, and 


KITTY^S FA THER. 


293 

has given Admiral Strong to know that he does not intend to 
refund the money.” 

“What a witty young man ? ” exclaimed Shepherd, holding 
up his hands in admiration. “ Well, he could certainly get 
a mortgage on the property to oblige you.” 

“ Yes ; but before I asked him to do me the favor, I should 
want to know what this investment is which you suggest.” 

Mr. Shepherd rose from his seat and crossing the room on 
tiptoe put his ear to the door and listened attentively for 
two or three seconds ; then coming back he seated himself 
again, and in a low voice said :■ 

“ Now, my deah Mr. Holderness, I am about to repose 
; great confidence in you, because ,1 know full well what a 

j good man you are ; and I am going to impart a secret of very 

j great importance. Let me tell you that my faith in human 
nature has been rudely, very rudely shaken; and that I have 
found those whom I have trusted very false, and very faith- 
less, and very wicked, indeed ! ” 

“ Why, who can they be, Mr. Shepherd.” 

“ Well, first of all,” said he, ticking off his thumb with his 
forefinger and drawing a long upper lip, “ there is little Missy 
at the Cedars.” 

; “ What ! Miss Helen Strong ! ” said I, in a tone of amaze- 

i ment. 

“ Yes, she is a wicked, deceitful little pussy.” I may men- 
i tion here, though I think I have said so elsewhere, that Miss 
\ Strong was what, in a lower class of society, would be called 
a strapping young woman who, at the scale, would have made 
j Mr. Shepherd kick the beam ; but it was the peculiarity of 
I this young man to regard most of his fellow creatures as 
\ babes and sucklings. “ A naughty little sly-boots,” he con- 
tinued, “ for she led me to believe that if I procured the will 
she would be my wee wifey ; but as soon as her deceitful end 
is gained she takes no further notice of me, and is not polite 
{ enough to answer even one of the many letters I have writ- 
ten to her. That is not pretty behavior, you know. And 
i I’m told that Captain Dysart has come back, and that he 
! accompanied her to the singing class on Thursday ; so it is 
: very clear that their engagement is renewed now that she is 
in a better position. All that is very unpleasant to me ; 
but,” he added, shaking his finger while his smile formed a 
vindictive line about his mouth, “ but I shall be even with 
little Missy yet. I was never quite sure that she intended 


294 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


to behave uprightly in this little affair ; but she will be very 
sorry, very sorry indeed that she did not behave uprightly 
when she finds that she has fallen into her own trap. — And 
then,” ticking off the next finger, “ there’s that shocking old 
gentleman. Admiral Strong, with his strong and ungovernable 
temper and his violent ways and his wicked speech, — he’s a 
wicked old tyrant and a very lawless reprobate and most 
ungrateful. I bought up many bills which would have brought 
him to grief long ago, had I not bought them ; and when I 
ask him to discharge his obligations, he makes no reply to 
my request ; and when I press for payment and signify that 
it will be to his advantage to do so promptly, as I have it in 
my power to make him particularly uncomfortable if he does 
not pay me, he responds in a letter which came this morning, 
saying that if I like to call upon him at any time he will 
certainly pay me according to my deserts and give me ‘ piper’s 
pay,’ whatever that may mean.” 

“ More kicks than halfpence,” I explained. 

“ Thank you so much — more kicks than halfpennies — that 
is the construction I put upon the term ; but I dare say he 
will be very sorry that he did not pay me the halfpennies, 
very sorry, indeed. And then ” — coming to the third finger, 
“there is Mr. Singleton, who deceived me most shamefully, 
for after promising me five hundred pounds for the will, he 
actually gave me a check which was worth nothing at all — a 
check which was dishonored at the bank, a check which he 
had the barefaced assurance to tell me would not be met 
until it was proved by the conviction of Mr. Shuttle that the 
will had been in his possession. But I can see through his 
artifice ; I know very well what he wants. He expects, by 
the offer of a larger reward, to tempt some unprincipled per- 
son or persons to come forward and declare they saw what 
took place at the vicarage on the night when my deah old 
friend and master was murdered, and to support the evidence 
of those false witnesses he will need my testimony with regard 
to my finding the will in Mr. Shuttle’s trunk. Without that 
testimony he will not dare to bring the case into court. But 
I do not intend to give my testimony ; because, on the one 
hand, I have no desire to be cross-examined by a counsel 
and to be held up to ridicule and scorn as unfortunate wit- 
nesses too frequently are held up ; and, on the other hand, I 
have conscientious scruples against hunting down an erring 
brother to his doom ; for what would it profit me to bring 


295 


KITTY'S FA THER. 

Mr. Shuttle to the gallows ? He has done me no harm, and 
I bear him no ill will. I shall not raise my hand against him 
if I can avoid doing so.” 

“ But in the other case ” I suggested. 

“ Oh, that would be a very different matter. Mr. Single- 
ton has shown himself to be a very unscrupulous and unfeeling 
man. If he found he could not get a conviction against Mr. 
Shuttle it might suit his purpose to make some one bear 
false witness against me. He might go so far as to induce 
Mr. Shuttle to bear false witness against me, and that would 
be very awkward, as the will was undoubtedly given up by 
me. Mercy carried to excess is folly, and certainly to save 
myself I should do all in my power to convict Mr. Shuttle. 
But as I told you just now, my deah Mr. Holderness, I do 
not intend to give evidence in this case, and aid Mr. Single- 
ton for nothing. On the contrary, I hope to frustrate him 
not less than those others who have so cruelly deceived me.” 

“ And how do you propose to do that ? ” I asked. 

“ I propose to leave Crev/e to-night, and to-morrow morn- 
ing I shall leave London, and to-morrow evening I shall be 
in Paris. I am going on a Continental tour — hence this gay 
attire.” 

“ That will upset Mr. Singleton’s arrangements to be 
sure,” said I cheerfully ; “ but I fail to see how Miss Strong 
and the admiral are to suffer by it.” 

Mr. Shepherd made me a blithesome sign to wait a minute, 
and, going again to the door on tiptoe, opened it sharply and 
looked into the passage outside. Finding no eavesdropper 
there, he returned, with a light and springy step, and seating 
himself said : 

“ I am coming now to the most interesting part of this 
pleasant little discussion.” 


296 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


CHAPTER XLVI. 

THE CURATE MAKES A CURIOUS PROPOSAL. 

After gaining time to collect his thoughts or overcome 
some semblance of modesty, by wiping the moisture from his 
face and hands with a handkerchief, the curate continued : 

“ I must tell you, my deah Mr. Holderness, that when my 
esteemed friend and master, the vicar, heard my report of his 
grandson’s connection with the stage, and saw moreover by 
those naughty bills on the walls, that he intended to produce 
‘ The Blue-stocking’ at Chester, he was so exasperated that 
he destroyed the will he had made, and wrote another, be- 
queathing his whole fortune to Admiral Strong, and this will 
he sent immediately to his solicitor in London, Mr. Cunning- 
ham. Now this will Mr. Cunningham sent back to the vicar 
with a letter, in which he said that he considered his action 
premature, and advised him to wait until he had some more 
convincing proof of his grandson’s profligacy before disin- 
heriting him. I will not conceal the fact that he added some 
observations with regard to me by no means flattering, and 
tending to shake the deah old vicah’s faith in my disinter- 
ested testimony. The vicah was terribly discomposed by 
this letter, and for two or three days he was not himself at 
all — very harsh and unkind to me, very sad and depressed, 
as he walked about the garden, and quite overcome with 
sentimental emotion, on finding in his desk, the first letter 
Mr. Sherridan had written him — a very ill-written and badly 
composed boyish effusion. And that night he wrote another 
will, word for word alike to the will he had destroyed, a will 
dividing his estate in equal parts, between Admiral Strong 
and Mr. Sherridan. And so at that time there were two wills, 
the last dated June the eleventh, the other a week or so 
earlier, and these two wills he placed together in the sandal- 
wood box, wherein he was wont to keep his valuable papers. 
Now in keeping both wills, it is obvious that he had some 
wavering doubt as to the advisability of yielding to the 
influence of sentiment, and recollecting Mr. Cunningham’s 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


297 

advice, resolved in his mind to be guided by the further 
development of his grandson’s character, as to which will 
should be destroyed and which preserved. And that resolu- 
tion may have come to him at the very last moment, while he 
was yet in doubt whether Mr. Sherridan’s play would turn 
out to be a profligate and indecent production, or a decorous 
and praiseworthy work of dramatic art. That I take it was 
this good man’s state of mind on the night of the eleventh. 
But, as you know, he did not live to decide the question which 
was, as it were, in the balance.” 

“ Both wills were in existence at the time of his death,” 
said I, beginning to see his drift. 

“ Both,” said he, raising his eyebrows, and smiling his 
sweetest, “and I obtained both from Mr. Shuttle’s trunk. 
The one I produced, is worth no more than the check Mr. 
Singleton gave me for it. So you see how very foolish as 
well as very wicked it is to deceive, and how terribly dear 
that little Missey will have to pay for her folly, and how very 
short-lived will be the triumph of her rude papa.” 

“ And the other will t ” 

“ That is worth at least fifteen thousand pounds, and I 
offer to let you have it for ten hundred. With that will in 
your possession, you can stipulate upon a certain sum being 
settled on Miss Kitty, as a wedding portion, and so secure 
her nicely against the terrible result of her husband’s extrava- 
gance. Fifteen thousand pounds is a great deal of money, 
but you can make it more still, if you choose.” 

“ Naturally, I should like to know all the advantages to be 
got by the investment,” said I, subduing the inclination I felt 
to express my disgust for this canting scoundrel, in order to 
get at the full extent of his rascality. 

“ Well, my dear Mr. Holderness, you have only to obliterate 
that part of the will which shows how the estate is to be 
divided ; the date and signature alone will prove the previous 
will invalid, and then the whole estate will revert once more 
to Mr. Sherridan.” 

This took my breath away for the moment ; but again by 
an effort I assumed an air of complacency as I told him 
that the transaction was of too serious a nature to be decided 
on hastily. 

“ Besides,” I added, “ I have but six hundred pounds 
all told, and I must find some pretext for getting Mr. Sher- 
ridan to raise me the rest on a mortgage, as I am firmly 


KITTY^S FA THER. 


298 

convinced that he would not be party to the transaction if 
he knew it.” 

“ That is what I thought. He is so eccentric and original 
and that is why I preferred to offer it to you rather than 
to him or Admiral Strong. There is no hurry you know. 
As soon as I get to Paris I will send you my address, and 
when you bring me the money you shall have the will, and 
we can spend a very merry little evening or two together in 
that gay capital.” 

Jack and Kitty were at the station to meet me, I having 
promised to return by the 6.30 train if possible. They had 
been shopping and the trap was loaded with parcels, 
groceries, drapery, household requisites, papers, magazines 
and books, and both were as cheerful and light-hearted as 
larks in a spring sky. “If Mr. Shepherd could only see 
them now with their purchases,” thought I, “his estimation 
of Jack’s improvidence and reckless extravagance would be 
more appalling than ever.” But this spectacle created a 
different and more pleasing impression in my mind, for 
I knew that Jack, who cared as little for luxuries as any 
young man in the world, was indulging Kitty’s taste in this 
direction with the sole object of giving her pleasure and 
diverting her thoughts from the graver subject which lay so 
close at hand. 

I had made up a story to deceive Kitty, and I told them 
that the business Mr. Goodman wished to discuss was the 
formation of an instrumental music society for the men 
employed in the Railway works. “ But,” said I, “ I don’t 
think anything will come of it. My terms seemed to frighten 
the old gentleman, and I doubt if he will trouble himself 
again to write me on the matter.” 

Happily the mare was very fresh, and Kitty was so fully 
occupied in keeping her in hand that I got through my 
string of lies without much embarrassing questions on her 
part. But Jack who turned round and kept his eyes on my 
face all the while, saw well enough that my story was nothing 
but a tissue of falsehoods. I knew that by the humorous 
twinkle in his eye when to bolster up one feeble lie I had 
to invent another. 

“ Well, Dick,” he said, when Kitty had left us for the 
night, and we had drawn up our arm-chairs before the embers 
on the hearth to enjoy a sociable pipe and a glass of grog, 
“ who is this mysterious Mr. Goodman ? ” 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


299 

“ Shepherd,” said I in a whisper. 

“ The devil ! ” 

I nodded assent. 

“ Singleton has not got him out of the country yet, 
then.” 

“ No, and there is no necessity, for he has so altered his 
appearance that no one who saw Yorke as those witnesses saw 
him the other night would recognize any likeness between 
him and the curate. What we have to fear now is that Sin- 
gleton will prevent Shepherd leaving the country.” 

I then described Shepherd’s appearance and narrated all 
that had passed between us. Jack listened in grave silence, 
scarcely saying a word till I had finished. 

“ You are right, Dick,” he said then; “this changes the 
aspect of affairs entirely. It is as much to our interest now 
to keep the rascal out of the witness-box as it was before to 
get him into it.” 

“ Well, thank Heaven he goes to Paris to-morrow.” 

Jack shook his head doubtfully. 

“ Will he go t that’s the question. I do not doubt that 
he intends to go ; but between this and the starting of the 
boat to-morrow something may happen to change his mind. 
We must not underrate Singleton’s ability. It is scarcely 
likely that he would lose sight of Shepherd. I imagine he 
has kept as sharp an eye on his movements as on Yorke’s, 
and you may depend upon it he will find some means of 
detaining him if there is the least chance of apprehending 
Yorke. What we have to pray for is that Yorke may be now 
beyond his reach.” 

We discussed the possibilities and probabilities of escape 
until there seemed nothing more to be said on the subject, 
and then Jack, to give a turn to our ideas, rose and 
suggested that we should go out and see what kind of a 
night it was. 

It was still and starry, with a freshness in the air which 
was pleasant to feel, after sitting so long over the fire. We 
walked down the garden and back again, stopping by the 
parapet to look down at the mill stream and then up at the 
countless stars above. 

As we strolled slowly away towards the house. Jack said 
in his calm, collected tone : 

“ There’s a man on the other side of the stream — did. you 
see him, Dick ? ” 


300 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


“ A man ! ” said I, with a start, ** what the deuce can he 
be doing there at this time of night ? ” 

“ That’s what I can’t quite make out ; I only saw that 
it was a man. Perhaps it’s some poor devil after the trout.” 

“ A poacher } ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ What shall you do ? ” 

“ If I were sure it was only a poacher I should leave him 
alone, but — perhaps — it’s Yorke.” 

“ Why Moulsey Church is just striking twelve.” 

“It wouldn’t be prudent to show himself out of the vic- 
arage before ten, on a market night ; it would take a couple 
of hours to walk over. It may be he.” 

“ But why should he be hanging about there ? ” 

“ Doubtful if Kitty is still up, perhaps. Possibly he has 
some feeling with regard to me. Better go across the 
bridge and see, old man.” And as I hesitated to accept this 
proposal, he added : “ If he is a poacher, he will take to his 
heels when he sees you on the bridge.” 

Encouraged by this assurance, I put on a bold face, and, 
leaving Jack at the corner of the house, went into the road 
and over the bridge. 

Straining my eyes down the bank of the stream I pres- 
tently descried the figure I was looking for. He did 
not take to his heels, but came boldly on to meet me. It 
was Yorke. 


KITTY'S FA THER, 


301 


CHAPTER XLVII. 

YORKE BEATS DICK TURPIN’S RECORD. 

From what I could make out by the dim light of the 
stars, Yorke was dressed now to represent a cyclist. He 
wore a cap, a close-fitting button-up jacket, knee-breeches 
and stockings all of a dark material. 

“ What’s the meaning of this ? ” I asked angrily. “ Why 
are you hanging about here when you ought to be hundreds 
of miles away ? Do you know that Singleton has a warrant 
for your arrest, and that he has found witnesses whose 
evidence can hang you ? ” 

“ I know, I know, I know,” he said, impatiently, interrupt- 
ing me ; but not to be silenced I continued : 

“ More shame for you if you know that to be here now. 
Have you no pity or consideration for Kitty? ” 

“ Does she know all ? ” he asked. 

“ No ; but she fears more than we dare tell her; and if she 
had as little affection for you as you have for her she would 
long ago have abandoned all hope.” 

“ Sherridan knows everything — that note on my dressing- 
case was written by him ? ” 

“ Yes. It was he who saw you prowling along the side of 
the stream, and sent me to see who it was.” 

“ And he would marry Kitty though he believes me to be 
guilty ? ” 

“ His chief anxiety is to make her his wife before you are 
found out. For he knows as well as I that Kitty will never 
marry him if you are convicted of your crimes — much as she 
loves him. It’s true enough that the sins of the father are 
visited upon the children — God only knows the bitter humil- 
iation and unhappiness poor Kitty has hidden from us 
already.” 

“ Ah, well,, she shall not suffer much longer,” said he, in 
a tone of desperate determination, as he rose from the coping 
stone of the bridge on which he had seated himself. “ It 
must end one way or the other before long.” 


302 


KITTY'S FA TIIER. 


It flashed upon me then that Yorke had made up his 
mind to save himself from the final disgrace by putting an 
end to his life when the last loophole of escape was closed. 
The fear of such an end overcame the feeling of indignation 
that exasperated me ; I could think of nothing but the 
bygone days, when Yorke was a lovable companion and a 
dear friend. 

“ Come, Bob,” said I, in a more amiable tone, “ there is 
surely some other way out of the difficulty. I can’t abide to 
think of your taking such awful measures as that. It’s bad 
enough to think of a sick friend leaving you forever ; but 
for a man in the prime of life and the possession of all his 
faculties to meditate suicide ! Come in and talk to Jack. 
He’s the most clear-headed man I ever knew. He will advise 
you. Or, if you won’t take advice, at any rate you can stay 
in safety under his roof.” 

“ It hasn’t come to that yet awhile,” said he with a short, 
hard, contemptuous laugh, as he seated himself again oh the 
stone. “ When I do run like a rat into a hole for refuge you 
may be sure the end is pretty near.” 

“ Then why on earth are you hanging about here ? ” I re- 
peated. 

“You were at supper when I looked in through the window. 
Kitty’s light has not been out more then five minutes. That’s 
her room up there. I saw her shadow on the blind. Now 
you know why I’ve been hanging about.” 

“ But if you do not intend to take refuge here, why have 
you come ? You’re not an absolute idiot ! ” 

“ I came, Dick,” said he, swinging his foot carelessly, “on 
the off chance that you might be able to tell me something I 
don’t know.” 

“ Ah, I understand. You want to know where Singleton 
is.” 

“ No. I know exactly where Singleton is at the present 
moment. What I cannot discover is the whereabouts of Mr. 
Crawley Shepherd ; and as there was just a possibility that 
you might have heard ” 

“ Why,” said I, breaking in on his meandering explanation, 
“ I was with him this afternoon.” 

“ Where ? ” he asked, springing to his feet in an instant. 

“ At Crewe.” 

“ Is he there now ? ” 

“ I can’t tell. All I know is that he leaves Victoria to- 
morrow morning at eleven for Paris.” 


KITTY'S FA TUFF. 


303 


“ Not if I can help it,” said he fiercely. 

“ If you’ve got a grain of prudence you’ll let him go,” 
said I. 

“ Why ? Come on,” he added, quitting the bridge and 
striding towards the road, “ we can talk and walk at the same 
time, and there’s not a moment to lose. Why am I to let 
him go ? ” 

Trotting along by his side to keep pace with him, I re- 
plied : 

“ Because he has so changed his appearance that the wit- 
nesses would find no resemblance whatever between him and 
the curate you made yourself up to represent. You made a 
fatal mistake, Bob, in overlooking the fact that Shepherd 
could take a lesson from your book and disguise himself. 
The best thing that can happen is that he should get out of 
the way before Singleton can lay hands on him — that’s Jack’s 
opinion.” 

“ Never mind Jack and his opinion. Stick to facts and 
cut the rest. Answer me straight — How did you come to 
meet Shepherd.” 

I answered this question and a dozen others which Yorke 
put in quick succession. 

“ One comfort,” said I, when I had put him in possession 
of the main facts, “ to-morrow is Sunday.” 

“ That will make no difference to Singleton. If he can 
stop Shepherd from crossing the channel he will. But I prom- 
ise you one thing, Dick, that may give you more comfort 
still — If Singleton fails to stop him I shall cross the channel 
with Shepherd.” 

“ I’m glad to hear that at any rate,” I gasped, still trotting 
along. “ But as I do not intend to go with you I think I’ll 
turn back now.” 

“ Don’t give in yet. I may have another question or two 
to ask you. This is the best turn you have ever done me, 
Dick,” he added in a tone of jubilant excitement; “now I 
know where my old pal Shepherd is to be found. Bob Yorke’s 
himself again. I’m saved, and at the very moment when 
I thought the game was up. You’re sure he said Vic- 
toria ? ” 

“ Yes. But how are you to get there by eleven to-morrow 
morning ? ” I asked. “ There are no more trains to-night, 
and the Sunday trains — ” 

“ I’ll be there, if I have to beat Turpin’s record and ride 


304 


KITTY'S FATHER: 


all the way. A few steps more, old man, and you shall see a 
steed that puts Bonny Black Bess in the background.” 

A couple of yards further on he turned into a field by a 
gate, and presently returned with a bicycle which he had left 
under the hedge. 

“When shall I hear from you? ” I asked, as he lit the lamp 
of his machine to examine a railway time-card. 

•“ On Monday, if all goes right ; I will send you a wire from 
Paris if I go there.” 

“ But if Singleton gets hold of Shepherd and induces him 
not to go ? ” 

“ Then,” said he, hastily extinguishing the light, “ then I 
shall be back here to-morrow night, and the last act will be 
played out under your very eyes, Dick. Now,” he added, 
starting the machine and getting into the saddle, “ Rugby 
Junction and victory ! ” 

Without a sound he shot into the darkness and was lost to 
my sight in a moment. 

Now, why had Yorke, who appeared so dejected and spirit- 
less before he learnt of Shepherd’s movements, been so sud- 
denly elated and inspired with vigorous energy by the mere 
prospect of finding the curate before Singleton ? And why, 
supposing him to be in his right mind, had he neglected to 
do that alone which he was so confident of performing in the 
company of Mr. Shepherd ? Had it never occurred to him 
to escape by the simple means of crossing the channel, that 
before the idea of accompanying the curate suggested itself 
he abandoned hope and resigned himself to a fate which 
seemed inevitable ? 

I greatly regretted that I had not questioned Yorke on 
these points, though, as Jack observed, it was highly probable 
I should have had my pains for nothing. The mystery of 
the whole business plagued me vastly, and the more so be- 
cause from certain undecipherable signs in Jack’s face and 
manner I inferred that he had hit upon some satisfactory 
solution of the problem which he thought it advisable to keep 
to himself for the present. 

. All I could do was to hope that Yorke might arrive safely 
with the curate on the other side of the channel and 
stay there ; but I had little confidence in such a happy ter- 
mination, having much more respect for Singleton’s sagacity 
than for Yorke’s audacity. 

As soon as it grew dark on Sunday, I became terribly 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


305 

anxious and uneasy, starting at every sound, quaking with 
fear when the milkman suddenly passed the window, and go- 
ing out so frequently for a little turn in the garden that Kitty, 
observing my unusual behavior, at length took alarm and 
asked me seriously if I felt unwell. It was a great relief 
when she and Jack went off to Moulsey Church in the even- 
ing, for that permitted me to watch for the return of Yorke 
from the corner of the garden, which commanded a view of 
the road to Chester without any subterfuge. When it was 
too dark to see the road I prowled about the bridge until 
Jack and Kitty returned, and as I had seen nothing of Yorke 
I now began to think he must have escaped with the curate. 
Jack and I sat up till one, and by that time we both agreed 
that we might fairly believe the danger was past. Neverthe- 
less, I was down before seven o’clock the next morning, and 
having taken a turn round the place, I strolled up to the 
village, thinking that perhaps Yorke had thought it advisable 
to turn in at the Crown for the night. The landlord was 
opening the stable-door, and, seeing me, he touched his cap 
and said : 

“You’re out early, sir, this morn.” 

“ Yes,” said I, rubbing my hands cheerfully, “ the days are 
none too long novv : we must make the most of ’em. The 
season’s nearly over, though I daresay you still have a few 
visitors.” 

“ No, sir, we ain’t had neery a visitor for nigh on three 
weeks now.” 

I stayed to chat with him for ten minutes or more, being 
greatly cheered by this information, which seemed to prove 
conclusively that Yorke had not returned, but the rest of our 
conversation was. so unimportant that I cannot now recollect 
it. I lengthened my stroll, for my mind was in a condition 
to enjoy all that charms the senses on a fresh autumn morn- 
ing, until my thoughts turned to the pleasing idea of break- 
fast, when I faced about and retraced my steps to the mill. 

It was still early when I got back. Neither Kitty 
nor Jack had yet come down. Mrs. Bailey was bustling 
about in the breakfast-room, and so fully occupied that she 
had no time but to wish me “good-morning ” and exchange 
one or two observations on the weather ; little Jimmy was in 
the stable rubbing down the mare, and hissing over the job 
like a man. I turned in to pat the mare and say how do you 
do to the little lad. 


20 


3o6 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


“Good-morning to you, sir,” said he, raising the brush to 
his brow respectfully. “ Is that your velocipede, sir, in the 
coach-’ us.’' 

“ Velocipede, Jimmy ! ” I gasped, in consternation. 

For reply he led the way into the adjoining coach-house, 
and pointed to a bicycle, white with dust, standing against 
the wall. 

I said something incomprehensible enough, I daresay, to 
explain the presence of the machine, and told the lad to 
finish the mare as quickly as possible that he might dig me a 
box of worms for fishing. 

“ Why, sir, I’ve just give her the last touch, and if you 
please, sir. I’ll go and find the worms at once.” 

I gave him twopence on the spot, for certainly a more 
obliging little lad never lived ; and as he cluttered off over 
the pebbled yard, I glanced round for some further indication 
of Yorke’s visit, for I could not doubt that it was he who had 
left the bicycle there. I saw that the coach-house door closed 
simply with a latch. He might have come in at any hour of 
the night ; but where had he gone afterwards ? 

In the corner beyond the machine there was a ladder sta- 
pled to the wall, leading through a hopper to the loft above. 
As I caught sight of this, it occurred to me that Yorke had 
not gone, but was hiding up there in the loft. With a trem- 
bling step I climbed up the ladder and stepped off upon the 
loft floor. There were trusses of hay close to the hopper, 
but I could see nothing beyond, for there was no window to 
admit light. 

I lit a vesta. As I struck it I heard a rustle in the dark- 
ness ; as the flame brightened I saw Yorke on the loose hay, 
resting on one elbow and rubbing his eyes with the other 
hand. 

“ Yorke ! ” I exclaimed in a whisper, “you have returned !” 

“ Looks like it,” he replied with a yawn. “ What’s the 
time ? ” 

“ Nearly eight.” 

“ Then I’ll have another hour.” 

The vesta was burning my fingers. As I blew it out Yorke 
threw himself down with a grunt of satisfaction. He made 
no reply when I spoke again. 

I felt my way across, led by his stertorous breathing, and, 
kneeling down, shook his arm to awake him. 

“ Yorke, Yorke ! ” said I. 


KITTY'S FA THEK. 


307 

“ Let me alone, for Heaven’s sake,” he growled. “ Don’t 
you see I’m dead beat.” 

“ I can’t let you sleep till I know that you are safe. You 
must answer one question.” 

“ Hang it all, you old nuisance, what do you want to know 
now ? ” he asked, rousing himself with an effort. i 

“ Where is Shepherd ? Why have you not gone with him ?” 

“ He didn’t go. Singleton’s got him. It will be all over 
in twenty-four hours.” 

“ And it is here, as you said, that the last act is to take 
place.” 

“Yes; but I shan’t be called for another hour, and' that 
hour I mean to give to sleep. I shall need to be fresh for, 
the part, so if you have any kindness in you, Dick, leave me. 
Call me at nine.” 


KITTY FATHER. 


308 


CHAPTER XLVIII. 

AT LAST KITTY AND HER FATHER MEET. 

Jack was standing in the porch when I got down to the 
yard. 

“ What is it ? ” he asked, as I came quickly to him, seeing 
by my face and manners that something had happened. 

“ Yorke is here, sleeping like a log in the hay-loft. 
Singleton has stopped Shepherd. It’s all over.” 

“ Calm yourself a bit, Dick,” said he gently, as he slipped 
his arm through mine, and led me slowly towards the 
orchard. We must not frighten Kitty out of her wits by 
a sudden shock.” 

“ She can’t be kept in the dark much longer.” 

“ It is scarcely advisable that she should be. But we 
must prepare her for the event.” 

“There’s but little time. Yorke expects something to 
happen shortly. He told me to call him at nine.” Jack 
looked at his watch. 

“ Good. I will call him. He is in the loft, you say ? ” 

“ Yes. If you could persuade him. Jack, to do nothing 
desperate. I think he meditates suicide.” 

“ He wouldn’t sleep if that were his intention, I think. 
Why should he come here for such a purpose ? It is more 
probable that his object is to see Kitty before going to the 
other side of the world. That is another reason for prepar- 
ing her. 

“ How is that to be done ? ” 

“ Leave it to me. I will go to Yorke at nine, and come to 
an understanding with him. There will be time enough 
after that to prepare Kitty.” After a minute’s pause he 
added : 

“ I hear her step behind us. If you can look a little less 
as if you were standing for your photograph, Dick, for 
Heaven’s sake, do. Think of your breakfast, and pretend to 
have an appetite. We ought to begin at once, there’s no time 
to lose.” 


KITTY'S FA THEK. 


309 

A little cough in our rear obliged us to turn. Kitty, smil- 
ing, and looking just as fresh and sweet as the morning in 
her light dress, was coming towards us. 

“ Have you come to tell us breakfast is ready ? ” I asked, 
smacking my lips. 

I really did act my part well at the table — so well that 
Kitty’s cheerful flow of spirits received no check, and we 
seemed to enjoy our breakfast as much as if Yorke were a 
thousand miles away. Jack was the first to rise, and, as the 
old clock on the stairs struck nine, he quietly left the room, 
while Kitty, who was already developing the habits of an 
admirable little housewife, occupied herself in putting away 
the serviettes in the corner press, and like matters. 

Mrs. Bailey had not yet cleared the table, and I, still 
playing my part, lingered there, when Jack, coming to the 
open window, said : 

“ Bring a basket, Kitty, and help me pick up the windfalls. 
You can leave the table as it is for half an hour.” 

“ That will please uncle scarcely less than it pleases me,” 
she replied ; and having fetched a basket from the kitchen 
she joined Jack, and they went off, with their arms closely 
linked, towards the orchard. I watched them out of sight 
from the window, and then, turning my eye to the coach- 
house, I saw Yorke coming from behind the trap. I ran out 
to the door and met him there. He looked very grave. In 
his hand he carried a black knapsack ; he was still dressed 
in the cyclist’s suit he wore on Saturday. 

Pushing past me, he entered the breakfast-room, and stand- 
ing by the table, he helped himself to some food, which he 
ate ravenously. 

“ If there’s a cup of tea left, let me have it,” he said with 
his mouth full. 

I poured him out a cup of tea, too agitated to ask ques- 
tions. He drank it off at a draught, and taking another slice 
of bread and butter said, as he made his way towards the 
door : 

“ Show me your room. A wash now will set me right.” 

I took him upstairs and led him into my room. He 
slipped off his jacket and opened the throat of his grey 
woolen shirt, running his eye round the chamber as he did so. 

“ Where does that door lead ? ” he asked. 

“Into Kitty’s room,” I replied. 

“ Lock the door and give me the key.” 


310 


KITTY'S FA TIIER. 


I did as he bade me. He slipped the key into his pocket 
and filled the basin with water, still eating. 

“ Get your shaving tackle ready, and give my coat a brush.” 
These orders I obeyed in silence, while he soused his head 
in the water, and proceeded to soap and scrub himself vigor- 
ously. It was impossible to get an answer to the question 
or two I put from time to time. He could not or would not 
hear me. As he began to dry himself with the towel, his 
eyes again ran round the room. 

“ I want a couple of yards of cord,” said he, and as I put 
my finger to my forehead to think where I might find such a 
thing, he added, “box cord will do.” 

That reminded me that there was a cord round Kitty’s 
empty box in the garret above. I ran up for it ; when I re- 
turned, Yorke was shaving himself before the glass. 

“ That will do,” said he, after a glance at it. “ Now, open 
my knapsack and empty it.” 

I undid the straps of the knapsack, wondering what it 
could contain. There was a suit of clothes, each garment 
tightly folded up ; at the bottom was a felt hat. 

“ Oh, Lord,” said I to myself, “ another disguise . 

“ Shake ’em out, and lay the things smoothly on the bed.” 

I unfolded them and put the hat into shape. It was his 
clerical make-up. 

“ What the devil are you going to do now. Bob ? ” I asked, 
with an uncontrollable accent of impatience. 

“ Haven’t you got a better razor than this ? ” was the only 
thing he vouchsafed in reply. 

I found my best razor and laid it on the table before him 
in silence. He grunted approval, still rasping his chin with 
the other. 

“ What’s the time now ? ” he asked, closing the razor with 
a snap. 

“ Half-past nine, nearly.” 

He paused in brushing his hair to listen, and then in a 
twinkling finished his toilette, and whipped on his jacket. 
With one more glance round the room, he went to the door, 
closed it as soon as I had passed out, locked it, and put the 
key carefully in his outer pocket. 

I followed him, as he ran quickly downstairs ; Jack’s voice 
came from the breakfast-room. 

The door was open ; we went in, and Kitty and her father 
at length stood face to face. 


KITTY^S FA THER. 


311 

She was by the window with Jack; her face was terribly 
pale. For an instant both stood motionless and silent, as if 
overcome by the emotion of this meeting ; then Yorke strcTde 
forward with his hands stretched out, and she, tottering for- 
ward, murmured almost inaudibly, “ My father.” 

He would have taken her hands ; but she, with an im- 
pulsive outburst of feeling, flung her arms round his neck, 
and laid her cheek upon his breast, sobbing convulsively. 

Jack took my arm, and leading me softly out of the room, 
softly closed the door upon a scene which was not for us to 
see. 

“ What is he going to do ? ” I asked, when we were in the 
garden. 

I can no more answer that question than you,” Jack 
replied. “ I have not the slightest idea what his plans are; 
I only know that he expects Singleton and the police to turn 
up some time this morning; and he has asked me to keep an 
eye on the road, and warn him when the enemy is in sight. 
We can sit down here and smoke a pipe, Dick. We have a 
fair stretch of the road in view ; probably they will come 
over in a conveyance. I can see nothing in the road, can 
you .? ” 

I replied briefly in the negative, and, seating myself on the 
low wall beside him, pulled out my pipe in silence. 

Seeing that I was mortified by his reserve. Jack, after light- 
ing his pipe, said, with kindly sympathy in his voice : 

“ Feel a bit hurt, Dick ? ” 

“Yes,” I answered. “Yorke has not given me one word 
of explanation ; that doesn’t surprise or wound me much, for 
he’s used me pretty roughly all through ; but I can see that 
you know more than you care to tell me, and it’s the first 
time. Jack, that you have ever treated me as though I were 
untrustworthy.” 

“ Yorke has told me no more than I had already conjec- 
tured. He has simply confirmed a supposition that has been 
floating in my mind for some little time. past. In three 
words — no more than three words, he explained the whole 
mystery; but, as he exacted a promise that I would repeat 
those words to no one but Kitty, you must not ascribe a want 
of kindness to my silence. Though, to be candid, Dick,” he 
added, after a minute’s reflection, “ if I had given no promise 
I should still think it advisable to keep you in ignorance a 
little longer.” 


312 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


I liked Jack none the less for this honest and characteristic 
admission, and, feeling that he was more far-sighted and 
wiser than I, and that in consequence the course which 
seemed best to him was the best for others also, I resigned 
myself with a good grace to my forced condition of ignorance, 
and watched the road, trying to find out for myself what those 
three words were which explained everything. 

And now, while I am supposed to be watching for the 
arrival of Singleton and the police, I will venture again to 
take a liberty with the form of my narrative, and relate what 
happened to prevent Mr. Shepherd leaving London as he in- 
tended on Sunday — the facts having since been given me by 
Singleton himself. 

Half an hour before the train was to start, Mr. Shepherd 
was in the booking office at Victoria, waiting for the pay-box 
to open, his Gladstone bag in one hand, his fare accurately 
counted in the other, when Singleton tapped him on the 
shoulder. 

“ Oh, Mr. Singleton, is that you ? ” said the curate, with a 
sickly smile, as he turned and recognized the detective ; “ so 
pleased to see you.” 

“ Thank you, sir, same to you,” replied Singleton. “ Will 
you be kind enough to step this way .? ” 

So sorry, but I really cannot just now. 1 am waiting to 
take my little ticket.” 

“You won’t be able to travel by this line to-day, sir. 
You’ve got to come along with me to Chester.” 

“ Oh, no ; I object to going to Chester. I know what you 
want, Mr. Singleton,” he pursued, his face growing longer, 
his air more serious, his speech more hurried. “ You wish 
me to be a witness in the late distressing affair at the vicar- 
age ; but I have quite made up my mind that I will have 
nothing more to do with it whatever — no, no, no, thank you. 
I firmly decline to have anything whatever to do with it.” 

“ I don’t wish to make it unpleasant for you, Mr. Shepherd, 
though you’ve given me a lot of trouble ; but I can’t allow 
you to slip through my fingers again. You see that young 
man over there — well, he’s a plain-clothes’ policeman, and 
I’ve a warrant in my pocket here to arrest you.” 

“Arrest me! Wh-wh-wh-what for?” asked the curate, 
trembling violently, as he quitted the ticket-office. 

“ I’ve a couple of witnesses who saw you at the vicarire 
last week, and they have sworn before a magistrate that you 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


3^3 


are the same party they saw on the twelfth of June sling the 
murdered gentleman down the well ; and on that evidence 
I’ve got the warrant for your arrest.” 

“ Last week ! Why, I was at Camberwell on that day. I 
can prove it — that I can.” 

“ I’m quite willing to believe you, sir. In fact, it’s my be- 
lief that Mr. Shuttle dressed himself up to look like you, 
knowing we were on the look-out, in order to throw suspicion 
on you. ' But it isn’t likely he’ll keep up that disguise to 
oblige us. We must prove that it was Shuttle and not you 
by bringing you both face to face with the witnesses. Come, 
^sir, you’ve nothing to fear with those whiskers on. Shuttle 
shaved for the occasion, and can’t have grown a beard since. 
The witnesses must declare against him. It’s to your ad- 
vantage to prove the fact before Shuttle can start a beard. 
Besides which, it is Hobson’s choice, like. If you don’t con- 
vict him, the witnesses will swear through thick and thin that 
it was you just to get the reward, and you’ll swing for it.” 

This threat, and the absence of any alternative, decided 
Mr. Shepherd to submit to the guidance of Singleton ; and, 
instead of going to Paris, he went that afternoon with Mr. 
Singleton to Chester. ^ 



314 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


CHAPTER XLIX. 

THE ADMIRAL DECIDES THAT YORKE AND SHEPHERD SHALL 
FIGHT IT OUT. 

We had been watching the road ten minutes, when Jack 
directed my attention to a speck in the distance, but after 
that some time passed before we could make out whether it 
was a man or a vehicle, and then we could not decide whether 
it was a cart or carriage. At the bend of the road the high 
hedges concealed it completely from sight, and a long interval 
followed before we saw it again. Then suddenly it came into 
sight on the straight bit of road leading to the mill bridge, 
near enough for us to distinguish that it was a covered fly, 
and that the driver was urging. his horse on with whip and 
rein. Almost at the same moment, I discovered a second 
vehicle, on the further side of the long bend. 

“That’s an open cart with four or five men in it,” Jack 
declared, when I pointed it out. “We must let Yorke 
know.” 

I stayed outside in the porch, while Jack went in to warn 
Yorke, my wounded pride prompting me to do nothing, rather 
than to busy myself uselessly in an affair beyond my compre- 
hension like Auguste in a circus. Presently Yorke came to 
my side ; there were traces of emotion in his face which 
softened my heart towards him. The hard, callous, determined 
set of his features was replaced by the tender and amiable 
expression which endeared him to his friends in the earlier 
days. Pulling himself together as if to dispel some lingering 
sentiment, he glanced out to the gateway, listened intently 
for an instant, then crossed the yard, entering the coach-house 
oh the opposite side, just as the fly turned the corner and 
rattled up to where I stood. Simultaneously Jack and Kitty 
came to the door. 

To our surprise, instead of Singleton and the police, 
Admiral Strong and his handsome daughter stepped out of 
the carriage. 

“ How d’ye do all,” cried the admiral, with a wave of his 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


315 

hand, to dispense with other formalities. “ Now then, Nell, 
my girl, you’ve undertaken to do the piloting through these 
ticklish straits, so at it you go at once.” 

Miss Strong looked very anxious and earnest, as she took 
Kitty’s hand, and there was a true ring of affection and 
sympathy in her voice as she said : 

“ We have come to speak to you, dear Miss Yorke, on a 
matter of great importance — of such pressing importance, that 
it scarcely admits of being broken delicately.” 

“ Aye, that’s it,!’ growled the admiral, scrubbing his chin 
with his hand impatiently, as he followed Kitty and Miss 
Strong into the long room, “ it’s so amazingly delicate that 
I’m not to open my mouth lest I stick my foot in it and offend 
every one.” 

“ Pray speak without any reserve,” said Kitty. “ There is 
no need of formality between friends.” 

“ There, Nell, didn’t I tell you that little Miss Kitty was 
too sensible for such stuff and nonsense t ” 

“ Well, dear,” said Miss Strong, “ last evening when we 
came home from church ” 

“ Ay, ta, ta, ta ! ” exclaimed the admiral in disgust, “ now 
for half an hour’s rigmarole, because the matter’s so pressing. 
However, I say nothing. Tm mum.” 

“ We found that horrid detective, Mr. Singleton, waiting to 
see papa.” 

“ Look here, Nell, my girl,” the admiral expostulated, 
“ what’s the use of the man half flaying his horse to get here 
quickly, if you’re going to spin a yarn as long as a three 
months’ log. I haven’t said a word up to now, but hang me 
if I can keep quiet any longer. I take it we’re all friends 
here and seeing that we’ve come to do friendly service, naught 
but want of sense can lead anyone to take offence. Miss 
Kitty, we’re told that my neighbor who called himself Decimus 
Shuttle, is Robert Yorke, your father. Singleton has heard 
from that sneaking son of a — baggage that you are here ; and 
he’s coming here as sure as fate to look for him. That’s the 
whole story. Now, if Shuttle is not Yorke there’s an end of 
the matter, and you can just laugh at us for hunting of mare’s 
nests — and none will join in more heartily than I ; but if he 
is your father, why then, my dear, there’s the fly out there and 
he’s welcome to take my place in it alongside Nell, and whip 
off out of danger. There, is that all the harm we have to wrap 
up in such a mighty lot of delicacy.” 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


316 

Yofke stood on the threshold. He stepped into the room, 
taking off his cap, and faced the admiral and his daughter. 

“ I am Kitty’s father,” he said quietly. 

“ Then come, Nell,” cried the admiral, briskly. “ Lose no 
more time, my girl.” 

Miss Strong rose with alacrity from the chair she had taken 
in indignation, when her father began his explanation. 

“I thank you. Miss Strong, with all my heart,” said Yorke. 
“ There are not many young ladies who would sit beside a 
man charged with the crime brought against me, and with no 
proof of my innocence except the fact that this is my daughter,” 
he added, laying his hand on Kitty’s shoulder. 

“ Come, this palaver may be done in the fly ; now, off with 
you.” 

“ Too late,” replied Yorke calmly, “ Singleton is out there 
with a friend of yours, admiral.” 

As all eyes were turned towards the courtyard, Yorke 
stepped back into the entrance hall, beckoning me to follow. 

“ When you see that they are likely to search for me up- 
stairs,” said he, quickly, “ come and warn me. You will find 
me in your room.” 

He turned and ran swiftly upstairs. I went to the front 
door and peeped out. Singleton was not in sight, but a cart 
was drawn up to the gate, and Mr. Shepherd was coming to- 
wards the porch with a jaunty step. I hastened back to the 
long room, and had scarcely communicated this information, 
w'hen a light rap was heard at the front door. Jack went out 
to receive the visitors. 

Overcome with fearful anticipation, I sank into a chair; 
Kitty and Miss Strong sat side by side near the window, their 
hands clasped ; the admiral stood against the chimney, his 
feet planted well apart and his arms folded : we were all silent, 
waiting to hear what followed. 

“ How do you do, my deah Mr. Sherridan ; I am so pleased 
to see you, for I have something of very great consequence to 
tell you. But I hope I shall not detain you very long, for I 
see you are going out for a drive in that carriage.” 

“ Come in,” said Jack, leading the way into the room. 

The curate, following, stopped at the door, astonished to 
find the company there, and the smile disappeared from his 
face, as he met the uncompromising scowl with which the 
admiral regarded him. Then, recovering his equanimity, he 
stepped forward, beaming again. 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


317 


“ This is mdeed a pleasant surprise, deah Admiral Strong.” 

“ Don’t speak to me, sir, or I shall twist your head off — I 
know I shall,” the admiral growled. 

“ Oh, how very unkind of you. But I am sure you will not 
be so wanting in British gallantry as to commit any act of 
violence in the presence of these deah ladies. Mr. Sherri- 
dan,” he added, evidently less confident of the admiral’s self- 
restraint than he pretended to be, “ I must ask you to let me 
speak to you in private, for my mission is one of a very par- 
ticular nature.” 

“ I have no secrets from anyone here,” said Jack. 

“ But when I tell you that it concerns the happiness and 
the welfare and the honor of Miss Yorke, my deah Mr. Sher- 
ridan.” 

That is another reason for saying what you have to say 
in her presence.” 

As you please ; butifear you willbez/(?^7 sorry for this,” 
said the curate, shaking his head ruefully, as he seated him- 
self on the edge of a chair. 

He sat in the full light of the window, and surely that light 
never fell on a more despicable wretch than he appeared, his 
face livid and lined with anxiety and apprehension, the sem- 
blance of complacency only marking more strongly the signs 
of abject fear in his expression, and his attitude suggestive 
of nothing but the cringing humility of a coward. And the 
hypocrisy of the man was marked by the incongruity of 
those personal characteristics with the airy and festive suit of 
clothes he had donned for his trip to Paris. 

“ Well, my deah friends,” he continued, blinking at us one 
after the other, “ I regret to tell you that I am a bearer of 
evil tidings, and I must beg you to prepare for a very terrible 
shock — especially you, my deah Miss Kitty, and you, deah 
Mr. Sherridan, must prepare for a terrible shock ; and for 
you, also, deah Mr. Holderness, the shock will be terrible.” 

“ Come to the point as quickly as possible, if you please,” 
said Jack. 

“ I will come to the point without delay, and the point is 
this, deah friends : I have been informed by a person whose 
veracity I have no reason to doubt, that the gentleman you 
all know by the name of Mr. Shuttle, is not Mr. Shuttle, but 
one Robert Yorke, and this Robert Yorke is deah Miss Kitty’s 
father. Now, when I heard this distressing fact, I was about 
to take a long journey, as you know, deah Mr. Holderness ; 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


318 

but I said to myself : ‘ This man has been very good to me — 
very generous and^kind, and his daughter is a very amiable 
and deserving young lady, and her uncle is a very nice old 
gentleman, and Mr. Sherridan is a very handsome and estim- 
able young man ; and all these deah good people must suffer 
tribulation and grief, if Robert Yorke is brought to a shame- 
ful and ignominious end. Shall I continue my pleasure trip 
and abandon Robert Yorke to his fate, and my deah friends 
to the unhappy consequences, when it is in my power to avert 
this calamity ? No, I will not. I will warn Robert Yorke of 
his peril, and, if it be necessary, I will aid him with my hand 
and with my purse, to escape. And so, instead of going to 
Paris, I turned my footsteps and came to Chester. And the 
first thing I did on my arrival, was to seek Robert Yorke at 
the vicarage where I had left him ; but he was not there. 
Then it came to me in the night, that surely he had gone to 
seek his daughter, and take shelter under the roof of deah 
Mr. Sherridan. And again I asked myself if I should relin- 
quish my purpose or not. And my heart told me not to leave 
the good work unfinished, for the same informant who told 
me that Mr. Shuttle was Robert Yorke, told me also that Mr. 
Singleton, the detective officer, was seeking him in Chester. 
And so this morning, I went to a worthy man who is a bakah 
by trade, and asked him if he would take me to Moulsey Mill 
to fetch a friend of mine, and when we had agreed upon the 
price, we started and came hither without loss of time. And 
now, my deah friends, the bakah’s cart stands at the gate ; 
and if Robert Yorke will take a seat in it, the bakah’s man 
shall drive him hence to Barnsley Station, where he may make 
good his escape, ere Mr. Singleton overtake him.” 

“ May I be shot if I hang fire any longer ! ” roared the 
admiral, shaking his fist at the curate. “ Why, you miser- 
able, hypocritical, lying, canting, drivelling, snivelling rat, 
Singleton told me all, last night. You yourself suggested 
that Robert Yorke was here the moment you heard his name ; 
you yourself offered to decoy him, under the pretence of help- 
ing him to escape.” 

The Rev. Crawley Shepherd waited to hear no more than 
this. He had dropped his hand into his jacket pocket, the 
mbment Admiral Strong raised his fist ; he now sprang to his 
feet, and whipping out a metal dog-whistle put it to his lips 
and blew frantically, retreating towards the door. The next 
moment, Singleton and another man appeared on the scene. 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


319 


“ I claim your protection, Mr. Singleton, against this wicked 
old ruffian,” cried Shepherd. “You promised to shield me 
when I blew this whistle.” 

“ I told you to blow when you were in danger from Yorke. 
Where is he } ” 

“ He’s in the house, I know he is. They’ve brought that 
fly to take him away. They’re all in league together — a gang 
of wicked robbers and play-actors.” 

I thought it time to w^arn Yorke, and slipping as quietly as 
I could from the room, made for the stairs. But my move- 
ments did not escape the observation of Shepherd. 

“ There’s that wicked old man gone upstairs,” he cried. 
“ Yorke is up there, he will escape by the window. Police- 
man do your duty — arrest the whole lot.” 

I heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs as I reached 
the landing above. I burst into my bedroom, calling to 
Yorke to save himself. He was sitting on the side of the bed. 
He rose and stood just behind the door, not attempting to 
close it. The sound of hurrying footsteps drew nearer, min- 
gled with incoherent cries of remonstrance and terror from 
the curate, and then he shot into the room as if he had been 
thrown in by force. 

“ There,” cried the admiral, as he pulled the door to with 
a bang — “ let ’em fight it out and may the best man win ! ” 


320 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


CHAPTER L. 

YORKE PLAYS ONE MORE PART AND ACTS AS VALET-DE-CHAMBRE 
TO MR. SHEPHERD. 

As the curate dashed up against the wash-stand, Yorke 
stepped forward, laid hold of him by the body, carried him 
across the room and threw him like a sack of rags on the 
edge of the bed, face downwards, where he lay, supine and 
gasping for breath, too terrified even to scream. 

“ Bring me that chair, Dick,” said Yorke in a quick, cheer- 
ful tone. 

“ Fit it to his back, so,” he continued, holding the curate 
down by the nape of the neck, while with the other hand he 
accommodated the chair to the angle of the reverend gentle- 
man’s body. 

“ Now that cord ; pass it under his arms and chest ; now 
over the back of the chair ; again under his arms and chest. 
Bring the two ends round to the back. That’s right. Pull 
them tight. Don’t be afraid — another pull. Now, tie the 
ends. Another knot, that will do ! ” 

Following these directions as they were given, I finished 
by securing the chair firmly to the groaning curate, and in such 
a manner that when Yorke raised him from the bed and set 
the chair in its ordinary position, there was Mr. Shepherd, sit- 
ting down, with his arms pinioned close to his sides. 

Having twisted him round so as to face the light, Yorke 
went to the dressing-table ; and, taking up my best razor, 
opened it and gave one or two passes across the palm of his 
hand with a malicious grin at his victim. 

Mr. Shepherd watched these terrible preparations with a 
horror that completely paralyzed his faculties. He tried to 
rise, but his shaking knees gave way and he sank back inert ; 
he tried to scream : his voice rattled in his throat ; with 
gaping mouth and starting eyes he shook his head like a 
paralytic, while the sweat trickled down his livid cheek. 

I myself was terrified. 

“ Bob,” said I in a tone of remonstrance, “ you mustn’t do 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


321 

that.” For the moment I really fancied he was about to cut 
the curate’s throat : and so did the quaking Shepherd. 

“ Deah, deah Mr. Holderness, save me, save me. Oh, deah 
Mr. Yorke, spare me this once,” the miserable wretch faltered, 
my intercession reviving a spark of hope. 

Bob approached, still stropping the razor on his hand. 
The curate tried to throw himself upon the floor by tilting 
back the chair. Yorke seized him by the hair, and setting 
him again in position said : 

“ If you attempt to move, if you open your mouth. I’ll do 
it as sure as you’re sitting there.” 

With cringing humility the curate closed his lips, pleading 
mutely for mercy. 

“ Hold that,” said Yorke, putting the razor in my hand. 
Then he went to the wash-stand and fetched the soap-dish 
and my shaving brush with wljich he worked up a fine 
lather. 

“ You’ve a little too much hair on your face, Mr. Shepherd,” 
he said, “ it doesn’t become you. Your old friends wouldn’t 
know you again, with that on. We must have it off.” 

With that he handed me the soap-dish, and taking hold of 
the curate’s nose, proceeded to lather his cheeks and lips with 
the quick dexterity of a practised barber. 

“ Now for that razor, Dick. Don’t move, sir,” he added, 
addressing Mr. Shepherd ; “ you may get an ugly cut that will 
not add to your beauty.” 

With amazing celerity he shaved off the curate’s mous- 
tache, then, after a fresh application of lather, he shaved away 
his whiskers, dropping occasional remarks of a bantering kind 
on the difficulty of finding good dyes for the hair, the ques- 
tion whether professional men should wear whiskers or not, 
and the like ; and describing a curve in the air with the flash- 
ing razor whenever the gasping curate made the slightest 
movement. 

In five minutes the operation was completed; not a trace 
was left on the curate’s face of the dark beard which had so 
altered his appearance. 

“ You begin to look more like yourself,” said Yorke, eyeing 
him critically, as he closed the razor and handed it to me. 
“ It’s only that light suit of clothes that looks so out of place. 
However,” he added, as he untied the cord that bound the 
curate to the chair, “now that you have the use cf your arms 
you will oblige me by taking it off.” 


322 


KITTY^S FATHER. 


« I — I — I — I don’t understand you,” stammered Mr. Shep- 
herd, as he rose painfully from the chair and faced Yorke, 
■who stood between him and the door. “ I do not know what 
you mean.” 

“ Strip,” answered Yorke in a tone of command, that was 
not to be misunderstood. 

The curate looked round him in bewilderment ; then, sud- 
denly, as he caught sight of the other door, that communicating 
with Kitty’s room, he made a dash for escape, twisting and 
wrenching the handle in a furious effort to open it. Then, 
finding escape impossible, his hands dropped like lead to his 
side, and he stood panting for breath and quaking with 
apprehension of punishment for the attempt. 

Yorke had not stirred a step, but stood eyeing the curate, 
like a tamer watching the efforts of a wild beast to force the 
bars of its cage ; and the curate looked not less like the 
cowering brute who, deprived of all energy and courage, 
waits only for a commanding word to sullenly obey. 

“Strip!” repeated Yorke, in the same stern tone, and 
nodding to the curate’s black suit, laid out on the bed, “there 
are the clothes you are to wear.” 

A perception of Yorke’s object now flashed upon me ; it 
was not less obvious to Shepherd. He glanced from the 
clothes to Yorke, opened his mouth to speak, with a wild 
gesture of supplication ; then, perceiving the utter use- 
lessness of appeal or resistance, he dropped in a chair, and 
raised his nerveless fingers to remove his brilliant cravat. 

I helped the miserable wretch to change his things, for he 
seemed to have nearly lost all mental and physical capacity 
for action ; and his spirits were so completely cast down, that 
he tried to give me a smile of tearful gratitude as I unfast- 
ened the buttons of his waistcoat. 

He rallied a little, however, by the time he had got his 
shivering legs into his black trousers, and when Yorke, step- 
ping forward, picked up his discarded clothes, he started to 
his feet, and made a grab at them. Yorke quietly pushed him 
back in his chair, and took the clothes to the bed, where he 
proceeded to shake them out carefully. 

“ I defy you to touch anything contained in my pockets,” 
cried the curate. “ This is an abominable outrage, and you 
shall be punished for it very severely if there is any justice 
in the land.” 

“ You shall have as much justice as you want. All in good 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


323 

time. Get your clothes on,” answered Yorke,- as he folded 
up the clothes neatly. ' 

Another access of terror shook the wretched man ; it was 
as much as he could do to stand on his legs, as I thrust his 
limp arms into the sleeves of his coat. 

At length the last button was fastened, and Shepherd was 
transformed from the airy tourist to the sombre curate 
again. 

“ Come, that’s something like,” said Yorke, glancing at him, 
as he crossed to fetch a towel from the horse. “ Give him a 
glass of water. His trouble is not all over yet.” • - . '-i 

I filled a glass and gave it to Shepherd. ^He put it to his 
lips with feverish eagerness, and aftenvards nursed it on ihis 
knee, taking a sip from it now and then, ruefully watching 
Yorke, between whiles, as he tied up his travelling suit in the 
towel. - ‘ 

We were so silent that I could hear the murmur of voices 
in the room below; and above this, I presently icaught^tlie 
sound of wheels in the yard. ' > - t r 

“ Can you see who that is, Dick ?” Yorke asked. i.'; «-Tr 
I went to the corner window which looked over part of the 
yard, and, peering out, saw some men getting down from a 
covered carrier’s cart. Two of them I identified at once as 
the witnesses Singleton had procured; and in the wiry old 
man who stepped down briskly after them, I recognized York^s 
mysterious companion, Roberts. The fourth wag a policeman, 
who, by his appearance, I took to be an inspector. .1; m 
• The sight of these men revived my alarm, for I saw only 
partly through Yorke’s design, and was doubtful whether, 
now that he had so altered Shepherd’s appearance as to. lead 
the witness to identify him, with the man they^had sworn ^to 
in the shrubbery, he himself intended to face’' justice^; or 

fly. ‘ ^ '• ^ -ifi 

“ Roberts is there,” said I to him quickly, ‘^and-Singleton’s 
two witnesses with an officer of police.”- •'> ' ' <" ' - 

“ They’ve timed it very well;” said he, seating himself on 
the bed with perfect composure, “ there’s nothing more to be 
done, but to wait tlil the police comes up for us.” 

‘ ^ 

.X X.:. ; ; ^ 

■-I j. I :\i 
i. 


324 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


CHAPTER LI. 

THE MAN WHO PLAYED MANY PARTS. 

The sound of another vehicle rattling into the yard took 
me again to the window. I could see but the back of a 
brightly painted dog-cart, from which a smart livery servant 
was stepping down. When I reported this new arrival to 
Yorke and asked him if he knew who it was, he replied : 

“ I have not the slightest idea. Go down and see for 
yourself.” 

I was in a fever of anxiety and curiosity to know what was 
going on below, being quite at a loss to understand Single- 
ton’s long inactivity, for no one had come near the room 
during the time occupied in metamorphosing Mr. Shepherd, 
so I eagerly accepted this proposal and ran downstairs. 

In the passage I met Mrs. Bailey, who was coming from 
the long room with the breakfast things. 

“ Lord, Mr. Holderness,” said she, “ what is all this to do ? 
There’s policemen and all sorts of parties about, and here is 
Sir Thomas Thorne from Moulsey Court just come with his 
secretary.” 

“ My dear soul/’ I replied, “ I’m as much in the dark as 
you are,” and, passing on, I entered the long room in a flut- 
ter of excitement. 

Sir Thomas Thorne, a hale, elderly gentleman with a 
magisterial air, was standing at the head of the table, his 
secretary sitting behind him at the little desk by the window, 
with a shorthand note-book before him, and sharpening a 
pencil. The police inspector stood on his left and Jack and 
the admiral on the right hand of the table, Kitty and Miss 
Strong sitting between them. Singleton stood opposite them 
with the plain clothes policeman a little in the rear. Sir 
Thomas Thorne was speaking. 

“ Then, as I understand you, Mr. Singleton,” he said, 
“ you wish me to preside over an informal court of inquiry.” 

“ Precisely so, sir.” 

“ I do not know whether it is quite regular or not ; but if 
you see no technical objection, Mr, Inspector ” 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


325 

“ There is none that I know of, Sir Thomas, Mr. Single- 
ton’s object ” 

“ Pardon me,” said Singleton, interrupting : “ I will ex- 
plain the circumstances to Sir Thomas Thorne with your 
permission.” 

There was a pause as Sir Thomas seated himself, and 
after him the admiral. Jack and I seated ourselves ; then 
Singleton continued : 

“ As you are doubtless aware, sir, the body of the Rev’d 
Mr. Sherridan, vicar of St. Botolph’s, was found under con- 
ditions which excited a strong suspicion that he had been 
murdered. That suspicion was strengthened by the fact that 
a certain sum of money, a will and other documents con- 
tained in a sandal-wood box, were missing. The sandal- 
wood box I received from Robert Yorke, and circumstances 
led me to infer that the vicar was murdered and robbed by 
the person whom I shall presently bring before you. I had 
information of a not very reliable kind that two men boasted 
of being able to bring the murderer to justice. These men I 
had reason to believe were common card-sharpers. As you 
are doubtless aware, sir, it is extremely difficult to induce 
men of that kind to go into a witness-box. Their acquaint- 
ance with courts of justice is usually of an unpleasant kind, 
and cross-examination is pretty sure to bring out facts in 
their history which they have reason to conceal. I found 
means to tempt them by the offer of a large reward ; and 
after trying to compound with felony they came to me.” 

“ In what way did they attempt to compound with felony 
asked Sir Thomas Thorne. 

“ I can prove that they undertook to be silent on condi- 
tion that the suspected criminal paid them the amount 
offered for their evidence.” 

“ I understand — a pair of rascals.” 

“ Undoubtedly, sir. The fact that they were a pair of 
rascals, and that their rascality could be proved, made it most 
important that before putting them in the witness-box the 
reliability of their evidence should be ascertained beyond all 
question. There was evidence enough to arrest the criminal, 
but whether conviction would follow depended entirely upon 
the behavior of our witnesses under examination. A jury very 
properly regards bought evidence — evidence procured by 
the promise of a large reward — with suspicion, and any hesi- 
tation on the part of these witnesses, any flaw in their tes 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


326 

timotiy, would probably result in the discharge of the prisoner, 
and our stultification.” 

“ Quite so,” said Sir Thomas, with a grave shake of the 
head. 

“ Our first object was to discover whether the man we 
suspected and the man they indicated were identical. To 
this end, with the kind assistance of Admiral Strong, we 
introduced our two card-sharpers into the shrubbery of the 
vicarage, where they saw the suspected party under nearly 
the same conditions with regard to distance and sight which 
existed on the morning when they swear to having seen the 
murderer dispose of his victim. Without hesitation they 
declared that this was the man they had seen. But, sir, we 
knew that the person they identified was disguised to repre- 
sent somebody else. Now here lay our difficulty : at the 
trial this person might throw our witnesses into confusion 
and doubt by appearing without his disguise.” • 

“ So that, as I understand it, you were no further advanced 
by this experiment.” 

“ Pardon me, sir — the experiment proved one important 
fact : the criminal was either the curate of St. Botolph’s, the 
Rev. Crawley Shepherd, or a man made up to represent 
him. We have not the slightest doubt which of the two it 
was, but to avoid the possibility of his wriggling out of the 
prisoner’s dock, we resolved to put the witnesses to another 
test by confronting them with both men before making our 
^rrest. We have succeeded in bringing them all here ; the 
witnesses are in the next room, the curate of St. Botolph’s 
and Robert Yorke, who impersonated him, are upstairs. And 
that this examination might be made before disinterested 
witnesses we have called upon you, sir, as a Justice of the 
Peace, to be present, and we have also brought Admiral 
Strong here.” 

“ Hold there ! ” cried the admiral, “ as you pretend to be 
so vastly anxious to have everything above board, it may be 
as well to tell Sir Thomas Thorne that you did not bring me 
at all. I came here perfectly of my own free will.” 

“True, sir,” replied Singleton, with a pleasant smile ; “but 
you would not have come had I not taken the precaution to 
inform you last night that the person implicated with the 
curate was Robert Yorke, the father of the young lady there, 
your daughter’s friend, and the affianced wife of your friend 
Mr. John Vernon Sherridan ; and that he was in hiding here, 


KITTY'S FA THE T. 


327 


You came to put him on his guard; but you are here now to 
serve the ends of justice.” 

“ What! ’twas nought but a trap! I’m much obliged to 
you, Mr. Singleton ! ” and, dropping his voice, added, “ and 
be d d to you.” 

“ You shall have no reason to regret it, sir,” said Singleton; 
and, turning again to Sir Thomas Thorne, he continued : 

“ Now, sir, I have explained the case ; and with your per- 
mission I will send for Robert Yorke and the Rev. Mr. Shep- 
herd, and then bring the witnesses face to face with them 
to decide which of the two they saw on the 12th of May, dis- 
posing of the murdered vicar’s body.” 

“You raise.no objection, Mr. Inspector?” Sir Thomas 
asked. 

“None,^sir.” 

Sir Thomas nodded assent to the officer at his elbow, who 
immediately left the room. An awkward pause followed, in 
which Sir Thomas spoke in an undertone with his secretary, 
who had been making notes, in order to avoid regarding those 
who were compromised by their relations with Robert Yorke. 
Presently the sound of footsteps drew all eyes to the door, 
as the policeman returned with Yorke and the curate. , 

Mr. Shepherd no sooner caught sight of Sir Thomas Thorne 
than a joyous smile lit up his woe-begone face, and, stepping 
forward with clasped handSj he exclaimed : 

“ This is indeed providential. My deah Sir Thomas, as a 
friend — — ” ' 

Sir Thomas checked him with a repressive movement of 
his hand, and said with prodigious dignity : 

“ Mr. Shepherd, I am here, in the character of a magistrate 
and know no one as a friend.” 

“ These are the two men,” said Singleton briskly, “ Robert 
Yorke and the Rev. Crawley Shepherd. Sit down there, if 
you please,” he indicated a couple of chairs against the wall 
where Yorke and the curate seated themselves, partly screened 
by the open door. “ Now, we will call the two witnesses.” 

The policeman slipped out and returned in a minute with 
the two witnesses, who stood at the end of the table facing 
Sir Thomas, with their eyes fixed straight before them, look- 
ing as if they themselves had to answer the charge of 
murder. 

The inspector cleared his throat and spoke. 

“ I must warn all parties concerned,” said he, “ that any 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


328 

Statement made here maybe taken in evidence against them.” 

“ Your name, I believe,” said Singleton, addressing the 
witness in velveteen, “ is William Wright.” 

“ Yus, sir,” answered the man, in the hoarse voice peculiar 
to his class. 

“ And yours ? ” Singleton asked, addressing his companion. 

“ James Maffews, sir.” 

“James Matthews. 

“Now on the 12th of May, being in the grounds of thq 
vicarage of St. Botolph’s, you both saw a man carry the body 
of a white-haired old gentleman to the edge of a well, attach 
the bucket-chain to his neck, and by that means lower him 
into the well ? ” 

“ Afore he lowered of him down,” said Matthews, anxious 
to be correct, “ he had for to wind him up wiv the crank to 
get him over the edge of the well — didn’t he. Bill ? ” 

“Yus, and when he’d got of him up, the old gentleman 
swung over the edge, a turnin’ round and round like as if he 
was a roastin’ jack.” 

“ Very good. Now, on the i6th instant you went again 
iqto the vicarage grounds with me and there you saw a man 
whom you identified as the man you had previously seen.” 

“Yus, sir,” both witnesses replied. 

“Look round the room, if you please, and tell us if you 
see that person here.” 

In dead silence the two men slowly looked round the table, 
and then their eyes resting, last of all on the curate, they 
cried with one voice : 

“That’s him ! — that’s the very man we see.” 

“ You wicked, story-telling man ! ” exclaimed the curate, 
trembling in every limb. 

“ One moment,” said Singleton. “ Is Mr. Holderness 
here ? ” 

With a quaking reluctance I came forward from the retired 
position I had taken, inwardly cursing my folly for not absent- 
ing myself, and answered to the call. 

“ Mr. Holderness, you were with us on the i6th inst., when 
these witnesses, identified the man they swear to having seen 
on the 12th of May.” 

“ Yes,” I replied faintly. 

“In outward appearance that man resembled the curate of 
St. Botolph’s.” 

Again I feebly admitted the fact. 


KITTY^S FATHER. 329 

“ But you were perfectly well aware at the time that it was 
not Mr. Shepherd.” 

I hesitated a moment. 

“ Answer me at once,” said Singleton sternly. 

“ I must admit that I knew it was not Mr. Shepherd,” I 
answered, a deathly faintness creeping over me. 

“ Deah, deah Mr. Holderness,” exclaimed the curate, in 
an ecstasy, “ my preserver ! generous, truthful, upright old 
gentleman ! ” 

“ You knew then that it was the man who sits there, your 
brother-in-law, Robert Yorke 1 ” 

“ I cannot deny it.” I murmured faintly. 

“ Deah, deah friend,” exclaimed Mr. Shepherd. 

“ Now,” Singleton said, turning to the perplexed witnesses, 
“ you have heard the unwilling testimony of this gentleman. 
What have you to say ? Answer me, one at a time. What 
is your reply, William Wright ? ” 

The two men looked at each other and at the curate in 
bewilderment ; then Wright, recovering from his stupefac- 
tion, said with dogged determination : 

“Wull, all I’ve got to say is, this here Mr. Yorke may 
have faked himself up to look like the parson, but it was the 
parson and not him I see sling the dead body over the well.” 

“ What do you say, Matthews ?” 

“ ril take my dying oaf, sir, it was the parson. Lookee 
here, gentlemen, and your worship, it was pretty nigh dark 
when we saw the party on the grass plat in front of the ’ouse,- 
and then we was a longish way off. But mark this here,' 
gentlemen — it was half a hour later when we see him close 
to at the well. In front of the ’ouse we could just make out his 
body and a bit of a white face ; but at the well we could 
spot all his countinhance wivout any error. Why, look at 
him now — ” The curate had forced a smile of innocence on 
his ashy face, “ it’s the very same puttyish color of his skin, 
and the same grin he had on him as the old gentleman twisted 
round on the end of the chain.” 

“ On this evidence,” said Singleton, in triumph, “ I call 
upon you, Mr. Inspector, to arrest the Rev. Crawley Shepherd 
for the murder of the vicar of St. Botolph’s.” 

The inspector nodded to the plain-clothes policeman, who, 
with astonishing celerity, slipped a pair of handcuffs on Mr. 
Shepherd’s nerveless wrists and locked them with a snap. 

“ The evidence certainly seems conclusive,” said Sir Tho- 


330 


KITTY^S FA THER. 


mas Thorne. “ The witnesses appear to be telling the truth ; 
but before I commit him,” he added, dropping his voice, “ I 
should like to have more convincing proof that the man they 
saw on the first occasion was not Robert Yorke cunningly 
disguised.” 

“That proof is forthcoming, sir,” replied Singleton, “I 
can show beyond doubt that Robert Yorke was with me at 
the time of the murder.” 

“ With you — in what relation ? ” 

“In the relation that has existed between us for the past 
seven months — Robert Yorke is my employer.” 

“ Your employer ! ” exclaimed the admiral ; “ why, hang 
me if here’s not another mine sprung upon me.” 

“ My employer,” repeated Singleton. “ The business is 
carried on under my name, but, as a matter of fact, not a 
step has been taken in this affair from beginning to end 
which was not directed by Mr. Yorke.” 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


331 


CHAPTER LIE 

WHICH ENDS THIS STRANGE EVENTFUL HISTORY. 

There was a general movement which was checked by 
Yorke, who, coming to the table, said : 

“ One moment, if you please. Sir Thomas. Before you 
leave, I should like to bring one more point in this case un- 
der your notice. That the sandal-wood box — which, I may 
observe, was found by a lad on the edge of the river border- 
ing the race-course where it had probably been placed by 
the thief to throw some suspicion on some turf followers in 
whose hands the police might have found it — is supposed to 
have contained a will and a considerable sum in bank-notes. 
A will has been produced by the prisoner Shepherd, which 
he declares he took from one of my boxes at the vicarage the 
day before he decamped. That he did not take it from my 
box will in due course be proved by my man there, Roberts, 
who occupied the room in which my boxes were locked dur- 
ing the whole time of my absence. He will show that Shep- 
herd did not even trouble himself to pick the lock of the door 
with the instruments furnished by Singleton for that pur- 
pose. Had he tried he would have failed, for the simple 
reason that the key was in the lock inside. One wall, as I 
say, has been produced, but I have learnt quite recently that 
a second, a later will, which revokes the first, is still in his 
possession. At any rate it was in his possession in all prob- 
ability yesterday morning at the moment he was about to 
take a ticket for Paris. His object in leaving England was, 
I suspect, to evade the possibility of being arrested, to get 
money for the will if he could find a purchaser, and to cir- 
culate the notes which he could not with safety change in 
this country. We have his travelling bag and the suit of 
clothes he wore yesterday, and as it is most likely that he 
carried all that he valued with him, I think an examination 
of these things will bring further evidence to light. The 
clothes are in a bundle on the bed, upstairs. Roberts — 
fetch them. You have the Gladstone bag, Singleton 1 ” 


332 


AV TTY'S FA THE A. 

“ Yes, sir/’ replied Singleton, rising to seek it. 

The miserable curate, who had been sitting with his face 
buried in his manacled hands, suddenly roused himself and 
in a tone of despair cried : 

“ I can bear it no longer. I throw myself upon your 
mercy. Sir Thomas Thorne. I will confess everything, for I 
am less guilty than this shameful persecution would lead you 
to suppose!” 

“ I advise you to reserve your defence,” said Sir Thomas. 

1 am not your judge ; it is not in my power to help you, 
even if I had the desire to do so.” 

That makes no difference, sir, I must relieve my soul of 
i:s burden.” 

“ Remember your statement will be taken in evidence at 
the trial,” said the inspector. 

“ I cannot help it. I must speak. My feelings are too 
terrible for silence. I plead guilty to the theft, but not to 
the murder. You need not trouble to go for that bag, Mr. 
Singleton, the notes will be found in the breast-pocket of my 
coat. I restore them all. Not one is missing. And the 
will is there likewise in my little note-book ; the will,” he 
added, with a malicious leer at Miss Strong, “which deprives 
you of half your fortune ; and that is all you get. Admiral 
Strong, by hunting me down in this shameful manner.” 

“ It’s all I want to get,” cried the admiral, smacking his 
leg in delight, “ except the satisfaction of seeing you duly 
punished ; and I shan’t have long to wait for that.” 

“ You’ll be disappointed there, too, you vindictive, unfeel- 
ing old heathen, for I shall not be punished so much as you 
expect. Providence will not permit me to be punished for a 
crime I did not commit. I affirm most solemnly that I am 
guiltless of murder. On the last day of his life my deah 
old master was extremely unwell. He felt, I am quite sure, 
that the hand of Death was upon him ; for he spent the whole 
evening in reading letters, which clearly had not been opened 
for many years, and these added greatly to the mental suffer- 
ing inflicted by his undutiful grandson. He was extremely 
cross and extremely unkind to me, and would not accept my 
assistance, but bade me quit him and go to bed at an early hour. 
But I could not go to bed, for I was sure that something was 
on his mind and that he ought -not to be left alone. So I sat up 
in my room above, studying my books of devotion and prepar- 
ing my address to the Sunday-school children for the following 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


333 


Sabbath. And about midnight I went down and again asked 
my master to let me serve him. He was writing then, but 
what he was writing I could not tell ; and he was under the 
influence of great emotion, for his eyes were red with weep- 
ing as I had never seen them before, and his handkerchief lay 
on the table beside him. And again he told me very crossly 
to leave him and trouble him no more. So 1 returned to my 
room and my studies, very anxious about the deah vicah, and 
conscious that some crisis had come. And about two o’clock 
in the morning I heard a heavy fall in the room below. When 
I got down into the room I found my deah master lying prone 
on the floor, having fallen from his chair; and raising him 
up I discovered that he was dead. And I laid him out rev- 
erently upon the couch, and then I turned to examine the. 
papers on the table. I found that some of the letters were 
from his wife, and some from his son, and others again were 
from his grandson, and beside them was the will he had made 
a few days before disinheriting his son, and with that was 
another that he had made that very evening, and intended 
doubtless to send the next day to his solicitor ; for on the 
table lay a letter which he had begun to write addressed 
‘ Dear Cunningham,’ and these were the last words he wrote. 
Then turning again to the will I found that he had left noth- 
ing to me ; and this vexed me very much indeed ; for I had 
served him very faithfully and very long, and had done all in 
my power to command his gratitude. Then I confess the 
evil thought came into my head to appropriate the notes 
which lay in the sandal-wood box in payment of my past ser- 
vices, and also it occurred to me that if I took possession of 
the wills I might dispose of my master’s fortune according to 
the merits of the persons concerned and their behavior to- 
wards me. After that I meditated upon the means of carry- 
ing out my purpose, which seemed to me no more than was 
just and right; and at length I resolved to dispose of my 
master’s body in a manner to lead the world to suppose he 
had been murdered and robbed. But it was a long time be- 
fore I could gather sufficient resolution to do this thing. 
Nevertheless, my strength came when the light of morning 
began to break, and I felt that Providence sanctioned my 
design.” 

“ Here are the notes,” said Yorke, who, during the curate’s 
confession had laid out the suit of clothes and searched the 
pockets, “ and here is the second will.” 


334 


KITTY'S FA THER. 


‘‘Open all the windows,” said Jack, w'hen our last visitor 
was gone, “ and let in the fresh air to clear away this atmos- 
phere of crime.” 

I helped eagerly to carry out this idea, and it seemed as if 
we were rid of a real pestilence, breathing more freely now 
that we had no secret to keep and nothing to dread. I felt 
that I must give Kitty a good hug whenever I looked at her, 
and shake Jack’s hand whenever we met, just to give expres- 
sion to the overflowing joy in my heart ; and it was some time 
before I got quite over a feeling of irritation with Yorke. 
He had shown a great want of confidence in my prudence — 
and surely if I have no other quality I have that — and from 
first to last had treated me as if I were not worthy of trust, 
and this I told him roundly when we were out for a walk be- 
fore lunch, Kitty and Jack being a dozen yards behind us. 

“ Why, Dick,” said he, nudging my arm to his side, “ you’ve 
a quality a thousand times better than prudence, and that is 
simplicity.” 

“Thank you. Bob,” said I, “but I don’t think much of 
that for a compliment.” 

“No,” said he, “I don’t think we value any compliment 
that doesn’t give us a little more than our dae. However, 
Dick, you may comfort yourself with this reflection, that if it 
had not been for your simplicity and the use we have made 
of it, neither Kitty nor Jack nor you nor I should have been 
in the happy condition we are now enjoying. Happiness is 
everything, after all.” 

“ Why that’s true, Bob,” said I ; “ and ’tis folly to carp at 
trifles when the main end is won.” So I nudged his arm to my 
side as a sign of perfect reconciliation. Nevertheless, I had 
a host of questions to ask in explanation of matters that per- 
plexed me, and amongst these I may mention one that I put 
with regard to his appearance at Liverpool as a commercial 
traveller, and the weighty boxes in his room. 

“We were after the Birkenhead gang then,” he explained, 
“ for, as you may suppose, I have had more than one iron in 
the fire during the past two or three months. You passed 
Singleton and Koberts in the passage. If I had shown you 
the contents of that box you would have had still greater 
reason to believe me a thief, for it contained nearly a hundred- 
weight of plate that we had found that morning in a cart 
abandoned by the burglars. You see, Dick, I’m not a new 
hand at this business, having been in the New York detec- 


KITTY'S FATHER. 


335 


live force for five years before I came over here to see Kitty, 
and start in business for myself.” 

My measure of happiness was full, I thought, when we sat 
round the fire after supper, Kitty between Jack and her father, 
and I in the corner, where I got a fair view of their happy 
faces, and a twinkling regard from Mrs. Bailey’s merry eye as 
she came into the room with the spirit-stand, tumblers, and 
the brass kettle with the hot water. 

But it was fuller still on the day when Jack and Kitty were 
married, and it was yet fuller, I admit, when, a few months 
later, I led Mrs. Bailey, herself, blushing to the altar. 

As for the curate, his confession, which we fully believed, 
was not accepted by the jury, who tried him on the capital 
charge of murder, for they returned a verdict of guilty. But 
the sentence of death was remitted to penal servitude for life ; 
and he is now, I am told, one of the most exemplary convicts 
at Dartmoor. 


THE END. 



KITTY’S FATHER 




BY 

FRANK BARRETT 

AUTHOR OF 

“FOUND GUILTY,” “FOR LOVE AND HONOR,” “A PRODIGAL’S PROGRESS,” 

ETC. 


NEW YORK 

UNITED STATES BOOK COMPANY 

5 AND 7 East Sixteenth Street 


Chicago; 266 & 268 Wauash Ave. 



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